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CROSS ASD CROWN: 



OR, THE 



SUFFERINGS AND TRIUMPHS 



OF 



THE HEROIC MEN AND WOMEN 

WHO WERE PERSECUTED 

FOR 

The Religion 

OF 

JESUS CHRIST. 

JAMES D. M C CABE, Jr., 

Author of 'History of the War betwkhn Gkrmany and Fkance," "Planting 
the Wilderness," etc- 



WITH ILLUSTRATIONS ON STEEL BY SARTAIN AND ILLMAN. 



These are they which came out of great tribulation, and have washed their robes, 
and made them white in the blood of the Lamb."— Rev. vii, 14. 



NATIONAL PUBLISHING COMPANY: 

CINCINNATI, OHIO, MEMPHIS, TENN., AND ATLANTA, GA. 

JONES BROTHERS & CO.: 

PHILADELPHIA, PA., AND CHICAGO, ILL. 

1874. 






A 



Entered, according to Act of Congress, in the year 1873, 

BY J. T. JONES, 

In the Office of the Librarian of Congress, at Washington. 



Others were tortured, not accepting deliverance; that they might 
obtain a better resurrection: 

And others had trial of cruel mockings and scourgings, yea, 
moreover, of bonds and imprisonment: 

They were stoned, they were sawn asunder, were tempted, were 
slain with the sword : they wandered about in sheepskins and goat- 
skins ; being destitute, afflicted, tormented : 

(Of whom the world was not worthy:) they wandered in deserts, 
and in mountains, and in dens and caves of the earth. 

Hebrews xi. 35-38. 
3 



PREFACE 




Iff HE spectacle of human beings suffering for the truth is the 
sublimest sight that can be witnessed on earth. In the 
providence of God this has been the means of strength- 
ening and spreading the very principle which has at 
times seemed to expire with the martyr. It was thus with 
Christianity in the days of the primitive Church, the history of 
which is an almost unbroken record of martyrdom. The 
proudest and most fruitful triumphs of that Church were won 
at the stake, in the arena, and on the scaffold. " In this con- 
flict/' said the great Napoleon, summing up the triumphs 
of the religion of Christ, "all the kings and all the forces of 
the earth were arrayed on one side. Upon the other I see no 
army, but a mysterious energy, individuals scattered here and 
there, in all parts of the globe, having no other rallying sign 

than a common faith in the mysteries of the Cross On 

the one side we see rage and all the furies of hatred and violence ; 
on the other there is gentleness, moral courage, infinite resigna- 
tion. For three hundred years the spirit struggled against the 
brutality of sense, the conscience against despotism, the soul 
against the body ; virtue against all the vices. The blood of 
Christians flowed in torrents. They died kissing the hand which 

slew them. The soul alone protested, while the body surren- 

5 



6 PREFA CE. 

dered itself to all tortures. Everywhere Christians fell, and 
everywhere they triumphed." 

As it was with primitive Christianity, so it was with Protest- 
antism, the reassertion of the great and simple truths of that 
pure epoch against the errors with which the Roman Church, 
for its own selfish ends, had obscured the faith delivered by our 
blessed Saviour to his Apostles, and by them to the early Church. 
The precious heritage which we enjoy of Gospel truth and reli- 
gious freedom was won for us by our fathers with blood and 
suffering. Papal Rome, following the example of her Pagan 
predecessor, struggled fiercely to crush the truths which the Re- 
formers, after much labor, succeeded in rescuing from the dun- 
geons of superstition and ignorance, to which they had been 
consigned. Rome, conscious that her pretensions were not sus- 
tained by the Word of God, had taken the Bible from the people, 
and had hidden it so effectually that she thought herself safe 
for all time ; and it was a task of the greatest difficulty for the 
Reformers to regain possession of that blessed charter of our 
religion and make it free to all men. In defence of a free Bible 
they went to the stake gladly, counting themselves happy to 
suffer persecution and death so that those who survived or came 
after them might enjoy the rights purchased with their blood. 
In all the countries of Europe the fires blazed, and the groans 
of the martyrs went up to God, but everywhere the principles 
for which they died have triumphed. To-day Protestantism is 
the controlling influence in the world. The Great Powers 
(including our own free land) which control the destinies of the 
world by the sword are Protestant ; the nations whose ships 



PREFACE. 7 

cover every sea, and bring the countries of the earth into closer 
and more binding relationships with each other are Protestant ; 
the nations whose institutions are freest and most substantial, 
and in which the greatest amount of individual comfort and 
happiness is experienced, are Protestant; the intellect of the 
world is Protestant, civil and religious freedom are Protestant, 
the printing press is Protestant, the public schools are Protestant, 
the capital which controls the great monetary and industrial en- 
terprises of the world is Protestant ; the great mining enter- 
prises, the founding of colonies and the peopling of new worlds 
— in short, all those things which go to make up what men call 
the " glories of the nineteenth century, the great era of progress 
and enlightenment," are Protestant. They are the results of 
the labors and the sufferings of the noble men and women of 
the Reformation, who lived and died to win religious freedom 
and an open Bible, to break down the barriers which Rome had 
placed in the path of free thought and mental expansion, and 
to open the way for the fulfilment of man's true destiny. Had 
they failed in their efforts, had the Bible remained a sealed book, 
we of to-day would have been still in the depths of mediseval 
superstition and barbarism. The tyranny of Rome made man 
a mere beast of the field. The Reformation gave him the Bible, 
which taught him that he was the child of God, the heir to the 
most glorious of promises, and by raising him to a true concep- 
tion of his dignity and power, made it possible for him to fulfil 
his noble destiny. 

It is fitting then that the story of the sufferings of those to 
whom we owe so much should ever be kept in remembrance, 



8 PREFACE. 

because it is by watching these trials that we can best under- 
stand the principles of which they were the assertion. There is 
however, a tendency to ignore these things, and to regard with 
disfavor any attempt to call attention to the martyrdoms of the 
Reformers. 

There never has been a time, however, when a proper appre- 
ciation of the spirit and principles of the Reformers was so 
necessary as at present. Among a certain class of Protestants 
there is manifested a strong desire to revive many of the errors 
against which the martyrs protested with their lives, to sacrifice 
all the substantial results of the Reformation. The author of 
the persecutions, the great disseminator of error, the Church of 
Rome, still survives, and holds the same policy it pursued in 
the days of our fathers. In our own land, and in England, cir- 
cumstances have compelled it to present itself in a purer and 
better form than in lands where its authority is undisputed, but 
its policy is still the same, and those who control it are men 
ignorant of our institutions and the spirit of our people, and 
hostile to them. The Church of Rome in America is directed 
from Italy, by men unfitted by education, aspirations, and mode 
of thought to control an American institution. Already it has 
begun, stealthily and with great adroitness, its attacks upon our 
institutions. It has struck openly at the Bible, and would ban- 
ish it from every household if it could. It has exerted itself to 
destroy our public school system, and openly declares its hostil- 
ity to any system of secular education. It is seeking to enrich 
itself by the acquisition of property, and is constantly interfer- 
ing in our political questions by influencing the Roman Catho- 



PRE FA CE. 9 

lie vote in favor of those men who will sustain it in its aggres- 
sions. It is aiming at political power, with the avowed object 
of breaking down the institutions which Americans regard as 
the strongest bulwarks of their liberty — the free Bible, the free 
press, and the free school. 

These things are true, and it is no argument against them 
that the people of the Roman Catholic Church are American 
citizens. The danger is real. The Roman Catholic Church is 
not an American institution — it is a foreign establishment which 
has been introduced among us, and which has no sympathy with 
our institutions or our national spirit. The principle upon which 
every American Church stands immovable, and upon which 
our Constitution itself rests, is the right of every man to read 
and examine God's Word for himself, and to interpret it by the 
standards of his own judgment and conscience. The Church 
of Rome utterly repudiates this right, sets up the decrees of its 
councils and the bulls of its popes, and requires implicit obedi- 
ence to them on pain of damnation, punishing disobedience to 
them with persecution wherever it is strong enough to do so ; 
and these bulls and decrees extend to things temporal as well as 
spiritual. The mass of the members of that Church in this 
country are people of foreign birth, as yet unimbued with the 
American spirit, and accustomed to hear the priest before the 
magistrate. They are ignorant, and very many of them have 
no opportunity of improving their condition. Yet were they 
all learned and native born, the case would hardly be different. 
The Church is a different thing from tne people. The Church 
sets itself up above them, and insists on unreasoning obedience. 



10 PREFACE. 

Its allegiance is not due to the law, but to an infallible Pope, 
whose mandates are above the civil law. He must be blind, in- 
deed, who cannot see the danger which must attend the intrigues 
of such a Church in this country. 

The question arises, how can this danger be met and averted? 
By proscribing the Roman Catholic Church, or by persecuting 
its members ? That indeed would be to commit the very crime 
against which the Christian religion is a protest. The true 
remedy is this. Let us acquaint ourselves so thoroughly with 
the principles of the Reformers that we may be able to make 
them our guides through life, and to defend them from the 
attacks of Rome and its allies — those " degenerate sons of worthy 
sires" who are doing the work of Rome under the guise of 
Protestantism, and who, as one of the most zealous of the Ro- 
mish clergy has well said, carry a Romanist heart under a Pro- 
testant gown. Let us strive to make intolerance and cruelty 
odious; let us holdfast to our open Bible; let us maintain our 
noble free school system, and discountenance all efforts to give 
to it a denominational cast ; let us keep out of political power 
all men who are the sworn subjects of a foreign potentate; let 
us keep the line drawn deep and wide that separates the Church 
from the State ; let us bring into our daily life, and live up to 
them, those great principles of the Reformation which are the 
very basis of our civil and religious freedom, and we need not 
fear for the future. 

There is need however that we should understand these prin- 
ciples, and that we should live up to them. This is a Protest- 
ant country, and we must keep it so. It is time that we knew 



PREFACE. 11 

better than we do what the Reformers did for us, what they 
died to maintain, and what it is that Rome seeks to wrest from 
us. We can learn this only from a study of their lives and 
doctrines. 

The present work is offered to the public in the hope of sup- 
plying a portion of this need. It does not claim to be a History 
of the Reformation, nor a series of complete biographies of the 
Reformers. The great German movement is not embraced in 
this recital, the object being not to present a History of the Re- 
formation, but to call attention to the most vital principles of 
the Protestant cause, and to impress these principles on the 
mind of the reader by the relation of some of the most striking 
instances of Protestant martyrdom, and the instances given are 
those which are most likely to attract the general reader by the 
beauty and dramatic interest of the subject. The work is di- 
vided into three parts, each separate and complete in itself, and 
yet all bearing upon the main design of the volume. The story 
of the Vaudois Christians, the Huguenots, and the English 
Church is first told concisely and as briefly as possible, so that 
in each case the narrations of individual martyrdoms may be 
the better understood by the reader. It is believed that enough 
has been written to accomplish the object already stated, and it 
is hoped that the work may be • blessed in its effects upon the 
minds of its readers. 

No effort has been made to plead the cause of any particular 
denomination. The cause is that of Christ and His Church — 
a cause dear to every Christian of whatever denomination. 
Neither is this book designed as a partisan attack upon the 



12 PREFACE. 

Church of Rome. The history of the Protestant Church is a 
series of facts, and these have been stated without partiality, 
and that they present Rome as the enemy of the truth is not 
the fault of the writer. 

Why should not we dwell upon the memory of the heroes 
of our Church ? We erect statues and monuments to the pa- 
triots who gave us our civil freedom, and we are never weary 
of recounting their deeds or uttering their praise. Why, then, 
should we not tell the story of the brave and patient Christian 
men and women who died for our religious freedom, who gave 
us the Bible at the cost of their lives, and who brought Christ 
back to us as our personal Saviour and friend ? A nobler, 
sweeter, and more solemn story is not to be found in all the 
range of history, or one which appeals to us more directly or 
powerfully. 

Let us then cherish the memory of these Saints of the Pro- 
testant Church, let us make their names as household words, 
and when our children ask us of them, let us tell them with 
thankful and reverent hearts the sweet story of their lives, and 
so prepare those who are to come after us to hold fast that 
which our fathers won for us with their blood. 

J. D. McC, Jb. 

New Yoek, 

May 4th, 1873, 



CONTENTS. 



IF .A. :e, T I. 
THE VAUDOIS 



HISTORICAL SKETCH OF THE VAUDOIS CHURCH. 

Description of the Vaudois Valleys— Origin of the Vaudois Church— Constitution of that 
Church — Its Ministry— Its Ritual — Its Creed— Early History— Hostility of Rome— Growth 
of the Papacy — The Vaudois refuse to submit to the Romish Church — First persecutions 
of the Vaudois— The Pope proclaims a crusade against them— The trials of the Church — 
The Era of the Reformation — Efforts of Rome to destroy Protestantism — Terrible sufferings 
of the Vaudois— John Louis Paschal — The Jesuits— Hostility of the House of Savoy to the 
Vaudois— War declared— The Count of Trinity enters the Valleys— The Roman Catholics 
commit their women to the protection of the Vaudois — The Solemn Covenant — Sufferings 
of the Valley Christians — Battle of the Pra del Tor — The Vaudois victorious — Return of 
Peace — The Priests harass the Valleys — War with France — The Plague — Death of the 
Pastors — Aid from Geneva — Efforts of the Jesuits — Fresh persecutions— The Propaganda 
— A barbarous edict— The flight to the mountains— War in the Valleys— Exploits of Jana- 
vel — Baseness of the Roman Catholic army — The "Piedmontese Easter" — Massacres of the 
Vaudois — Horrible Scenes — Protests of the Protestant Powers of Europe — A hollow peace — 
Capture of the whole Vaudois population — Banishment of the Vaudois — The "Glorious 
Return" — The Exiles cross the Alps and regain their Valleys — Siege of the Balsille — A 
noble defence — Escape of the garrison — Peace — The Vaudois allowed to return — Perfidy of 
the Duke of Savoy — The Duke and the Pope — The French Revolution — Napoleon protects 
the Vaudois — The Restoration — Renewed sufferings — Justice at last — The law of 1848 — 
Great rejoicings — Scene in Turin J9 



THE MARTYRS OF VAL LOUISE 113 

III. 
JOHN LOUIS PASCHAL 120 

IV. 

MARTIN GONIN 138 

13 



14 CONTENTS. 

V. 
BARTHOLOMEW HECTOR 147 

VI. 
JOAN MATHURIN. 159 

VII. 
SEBASTIAN BAZAN . . 167 



:p.a.:r,t ii. 
THE HUGUENOTS 



I. 

HISTORICAL SKETCH DF THE PHQTESTANT CHURCH IN FRANCE. 



The Reformation in France— Causes of it— The Bible unknown to the people— Invention of 
the art of Printing— The Bible circulated through the agency of this art— Translation of 
the Scriptures— Demand for the Bible— Effect of reading the Scriptures— The Reformation 
at Meaux — Palissy's description of the Reformers of Saintes— The Church of Rome prohibits 
the reading of the Bible — The Inquisition established in France— The War against the 
Bible and the Printing Press— Persecutions of the Reformed — The Bible Venders— Rise of 
the Huguenot party — The Priests set the King against the Huguenots— Destruction of 
Merindol and Cabrieres — Spread of the Reformed Religion — The Psalms of Marot — Singing 
in public forbidden — Charles IX — Massacre at Vassy — The Religious Wars — Peace— Mar- 
riage of the King of Navarre and Marguerite of Valois— The Huguenots in Paris— Signs of 
Trouble— Attempted Assassination of Col igni— Massacre of Saint Bartholomew— Horrible 
Scenes — Massacres in the Provinces — The Work of the Jesuits — Rejoicings in Rome — In- 
dignation of the Protestant Powers — Remorse and Death of Charles IX. — The Civil Wars — 
Accession of Henry IV. — The Edict of Nantes — Conspiracies of the Jesuits — Richelieu's 
policy toward the Huguenots— Prosperity of the Huguenots after the Edict of Nantes— So- 
cial' and political condition of the Huguenots— Louis XIV. becomes King— His enmity to 
the Reformed — The Jesuits succeed in establishing their influence over him — Injustice to 
the Huguenots— Flight of the Reformed from France— Cruel policy of Louis— Severe per- 
secutions of the Reformed in France — Emigration forbidden — The Dragonnades — Extraor- 
dinary conversions — Activity of the Jesuits — A corrupt bargain — Marriage of the King — 
Revocation of the Edict of Nantes — Efforts to exterminate the Huguenots — Terrible suffer- 
ings of the Reformed— Effects of the Revocation — The Galley Slaves— Hostility of the 
Romish Church to the Working Class — Decline of French literature and power — The reigns 
of Louis XV. and Louis XVI. — The Revolution — The Huguenots under Napoleon — Subse- 
quent history of the French Protestants— Their present condition ........177 



CONTENTS. 15 

II. 
JEAN BRUGIERE .274 

III. 
PHILIPPA DE LUNZ. . . 279 

IV. 
DUMONT DE BOSTAQUET 292 

V. 
CLAUDE BROUSSON. • ... 316 

VI. 
JEAN MARTEILHE-n« Huguenot Galley Slave 335 

VII. 
THE MARTYRS OF TOULOUSE 368 

VIM. 
FULCRAND REY 378 



^^.^T III. 

THE ENGLISH MARTYRS 



I. 

HISTORICAL SKETCH OF THE ENGLISH REFORMATION. 



Introduction of Christianity into Great Britain — The Early British Church — St. Patrick — The 
Church of Iona — Gregory the Great sends Augustine to England — Conversion of the King 
of Kent — Designs of Rome against the British Church — Resistance of the Britons — The Re- 
venge of Rome — Establishment of the Papal Supremacy in England — Efforts of the English 
to retain their liberty — King John's submission to the Pope — The Parliament asserts the 
rights of the King and the people— The Early Reformers— John Wycliffe— State of the 
Romish Church at this period — Doctrines and labors of Wycliffe — His persecutions — The 
Bible first given to the people — The Eomish clergy try to take the Bible from them — The 
Gospel preached in England — Death of Wycliffe — The Lollards — The first persecution in 
England — Cruelty of the Romish clergy — Martyrdom of Lord Cobham — Other Martyrs — 
Reign of Henry VIII. — Henry's desires induce him to assist the Reformers — Explanation 
of the support given by Henry to the Reformation — Fall of Wolsey — Cromwell and Cran- 
mer — The King declares himself head of the Church — The rupture with Rome — The effect 



16 CONTENTS. 

of the circulation of the Bible — Spread of the Reformation — The Bible made free— Tricks of 
the Romanists — The Nun of Kent — Suppression of the Convents — Shameful condition of 
the religious houses — The new Articles of Religion — The Roman Catholic insurrection- 
Tricks of the priests exposed to the people — The Pope excommrfnicates Henry — The Inter- 
dict — The Martyrs of this reign — The Six Articles — Bishop Gardiner — His efforts to destroy 
Queen Catharine — Martyrdom of Anne Askew — Death of Henry — Edward VI. — The boy 
King — Progress of the Reformation— The work of Cranmer— Changes in the Church — 
Death of Edward— Bloody Mary— Her character— The Queen a Romanist— The Romish 
religion restored — Flight of the Protestant, clergy — The burning of John Rogers — The 
Reign of Terror begun— Martyrdoms during this reign — Tyranny of the Queen and cruel- 
ties of the clergy— The people come to hate the Queen — Horrors of the reign of Romanism 
— Martyrdom of Archbishop Cranmer— The scene in St. Mary's Church — Death of the vic- 
tim—Effect of this Martyrdom — Bonner's last victims — Hatred of the Queen— Her Death — 
Accession of Elizabeth — The Reformation accomplished — The new Bishops — Plots of the 
Romanists— Reign of James IL— Final failure of Romanism in England 395 

II. 

LORD COBHAM 484 

III. 
ANNE ASKEW 506 

IV. 
LAURENCE SAUNDERS 532 

V. 
ROWLAND TAYLOR 543 

VI. 
RAWLINS WHITE 563 

VII. 
WILLIAM HUNTER 573 

VIM. 
HUGH LATIMER AND NICHOLAS RIDLEY. . . 587 



PART I. 

THE VAUDOIS 



THE VAUDOIS. 



i. 

HISTORICAL SKETCH OF THE VAUDOIS 

CHURCH. 

Description of the Vaudois Valleys— Origin of the Vaudois 
Church — Constitution of that Church — Its Ministry — Its Ri- 
tual — Its Creed — Early History — Hostility of Rome — Growth 
of the Papacy — The Vaudois refuse to submit to the Romish 
Church — First Persecutions of the Vaudois — The Pope pro- 
claims a Crusade against them — The Trials of the Church — 
The Era of the Reformation — Efforts of Rome to destroy 
Protestantism — Terrible sufferings of the Vaudois — John 
Louis Paschal — The Jesuits — Hostility of the House of Savoy 
to the Vaudois — War declared — The Count of Trinity enters 
the Valleys— The Roman Catholics commit their Women to 
the Protection of the Vaudois — The Solemn Covenant— Suf- 
ferings of the Valley Christians— Battle of the Pra Del Tor 
—The Vaudois Victorious— Return of Peace— The Priests 

HARASS THE VALLEYS— WAR WITH FRANCE— THE PLAGUE— DEATH 

of the Pastors — Aid from Geneva— Efforts of the Jesuits — 
Fresh Persecutions— The Propaganda— A Barbarous Edict— 
The flight to the Mountains — War in the Valleys— Exploits 
of Janavel — Baseness of the Roman Catholic Army — The 

"PlEDMONTESE EASTER " — MASSACRE OF THE VAUDOIS— HORRIBLE 

Scenes — Protests of the Protestant Powers of Europe — A 
hollow Peace — Capture of the whole Vaudois Population — 
Banishment of the Vaudois — " The Glorious Return " — The 
Exiles cross the Alps and regain the Valleys — Siege of the 
Balsille— A noble Defence — Escape of the Garrison— Peace — 

19 




20 CR OSS AND CRO WN. 

The Vaudois allowed to return — Perfidy of the Duke of 
Savoy— The Duke and the Pope — The French Revolution — 
Napoleon protects the Vaudois — The Restoration — Renewed 
Sufferings — Justice at last—The Law of 1848— Great Rejoic- 
ings—Scene in Turin. 



N the Italian side of the higher Alps, the moun- 
tains fall gradually into the rich valleys and 
plains of Piedmont, from the Mediterranean to 
the borders of Switzerland. The scenery of this 
portion of Italy is exceedingly grand and beautiful. 
Three valleys of great interest and beauty open from 
the mountainsin to the Piedmontese plains. "Through 
each a rapid stream or mountain torrent, fed by per- 
petual snows and glaciers, rushes with a varying 
current, and mingles at length with the stately Po. 
Two of the vales, Lucerna and Perouse, widen as they 
descend from the crags above, and melt into the general 
softness of the Italian scene. Lucerna, the most beau- 
tiful, the most fertile, possesses unrivalled charms. Its 
thick and almost perpetual foliage, its groves of mul- 
berry trees, its woods of chestnut, the waving fields of 
wheat, its vineyards climbing up the mountain side, its 
temperate air, its countless hamlets, its innocent and 
happy people, seem to rest in perfect peace beneath the 
shelter of the encircling Alps. It would indeed be a 
paradise, exclaimed the historian Leger, if it were not 
so near the Jesuits at Turin. San Martino, the third val- 
ley, is haply less beautiful. It is a wild ravine pierced 
by a fierce mountain torrent, the Germanasca. On each 
side of the stream the huge Alps shoot upward, and 



THE VAUDOIS. 21 

ranges of inaccessible cliffs and crags frown over the 
narrow vale beneath. Its climate is severe, its people 
hardy. In the upper part of the valley winter is almost 
perpetual, the snow lies for eight or nine months on the 
ground, the crops are scanty, the herbage faint and rare, 
the shrill cry of the marmot, the shriek of the eagle, 
alone disturb the silence of the Vaudois Sabbath ; and 
in the clear bright air the graceful chamois is seen 
leaping from peak to peak of his mountain pastures." 
These valleys, says Dr. William Beattie, " are situated 
on the French and Italian frontiers, and combine, to a 
certain extent, the peculiarities of each. They belong 
to that division of the Alps, described in ancient geogra- 
phy as the Cottian range, or great barrier between Pied- 
mont and Dauphiny, and occupy the space where these 
mountains, laying aside their more savage aspect, are 
softened down into picturesquely wooded hills, green 
pastures, vine-covered slopes, and those fertile tracts 
stretching along the rivers, which yield a rich territory 
for the plough. Their situation has been defined with 
still greater precision by a native historian, who defines 
them as situated on the western confines of Piedmont, 
and included between the French frontier of Brian§on, 
and the Italian provinces of Pignerol, Susa, and Saluzzo. 
Their extent is about tw T elve Italian miles from east to 
west, and nearly the same in the direction opposite, 
thus occupying a square of twenty-four French leagues. 
Taking the town of Pignerol as a point of survey, the 
spectator observes four different valleys diverging before 



22 CROSS AND CROWN. 

him, namely : that of Pragela or Clusone, towards the 
north, with Perouse or St. Martin at its further ex- 
tremity; on the west, the valley of Luzern, of which 
Angrogne is only a branch ; and on the south that of 
Rora, the least considerable, but the most elevated of 
the four which, collectively, form the Vallees Vaudoises, 
or Protestant Valleys of Piedmont." * 

Within this little area, scarcely larger than the Dis- 
trict of Columbia, has existed from remote times a 
peculiar race of people, rarely numbering more than 
twenty thousand. They have retained their primitive 
appearance and manners to a greater degree than almost 
any other European community. They have always 
been noted for the simplicity and purity of their lives, 
and their absolute freedom from the ignorance, super- 
stition, and vice which have cursed the countries around 
them. The men are tall, well-made, graceful in action, 
vigorous and hardy. The women are fair, endowed 
with a native grace and refinement, and have always 
been noted for their chastity and modest deportment. 
Both sexes are frank, hospitable, peaceful and forbear- 
ing in disposition. 

Soon after the introduction of Christianity into Italy 
by the Apostles, the people of these valleys became 
converts to the faith preached by St. Paul. They ac- 
cepted and taught the doctrines of the Apostles, arid 

*The Waldenses or Protestant Valleys of Piedmont, Dauphiny, And the 
Ban De La Roche. By William Beattie, M. D. London : George 
Virtue. 1838. page 7. 



THE VAUDOIS. 23 

practised the simple rites or usages as described by 
Justin or Tertullian. They acknowledged the Holy 
Scriptures as their sole rule of faith, and rejected all 
that was not taught in the books of the New Testament. 
From the days of Constantine to the present time, they 
have never changed their faith, and have never altered 
in any important particular their religious observances. 

Mus.ton, in his " Israel of the Alps," to which the 
reader is referred for a most interesting and exhaustive 
history of the Vaudois, says : " Here, let me remark, 
we have one of the strongest intrinsic proofs of the 
apostolic descent of the. Vaudois, for the Church of Rome 
was also, in its origin, the Apostolic Church, being 
under the guidance of St. Paul, and if the Vaudois had 
been separate from it from the beginning, they could 
not have been apostolic themselves ; if they had sepa- 
rated from it at a later period, without previously hav- 
ing had any independent existence, their ' existence 
would have dated only from that separation. But, on 
the contrary, they had existed from the commencement 
of the common life ; that life had been preserved among 
their mountains ; they might probably believe that it 
was also preserved elsewhere ; and when its corruptions 
became so striking, that the primitive apostolical char- 
acter of the Church of Rome was completely effaced, 
they refused to give it the name of Catholic, and showed 
in what it had departed from true Catholicity. 

" It may, perhaps, be said that there were no Chris- 
tians in the Alps in the time of the Apostles. But the 



2-i CROSS AND CROWN. 

Apostolical Church did not die with the Apostles ; in 
the era of the martyrs the seeds of it were sown all over 
Italy. The Ambrosian office,* which the Yaudois were 
reproached for having retained after it had been abol- 
ished elsewhere, was not set up except in the Fourth 
Century; and the Epistle to the Laodiceans, which 
they preserved in some of their manuscripts, also leads 
us back to the same date. 

"That the Yaudois, notwithstanding their small 
number, remained the representatives of the Universal 
Church, and were the precursors and not the disciples 
of the Reformation, is entirely owing to the Word of 
God, the Gospel of Christ. It may be that they did not 
understand it always so well as the Reformers; that 
they shared in some of the religious forms of the Romish 
Church ; that they even admitted doctrinal articles 
which we do not admit at the present day (the distinc- 
tion, for example, betwixt mortal and venial sins) ; it 
is not their infallibility for which we would contend, 
but that which gave them their strength, their unity, 
their perseverance in the Gospel, in one word, their in- 
dividuality as a Church, at once Catholic when viewed 
with reference to the Bible, and Protestant when viewed 

* St. Ambrose was Bishop of Milan from A. d. 374 to A. d. 397. He 
was one of the most eloquent of all those who protested against the 
corruptions and usurpations of the Church of Eome. St. Augustine 
was his disciple. Both acknowledged but two Sacraments, Baptism 
and the Lord's Supper. St. Ambrose denied the Romish doctrine of 
transubstantiation, and openly denounced the worship of images as 
Paganism. 



THE VAUDOIS. 25 

in reference to Catholicism ; their maintenance of the 
absolute authority of the Word of God, and of the doc- 
trine of Salvation by Jesus Christ. The Vaudois, 
therefore, are not schismatics, but continued inheritors 
of the Church founded by the Apostles. This Church 
then bore the name of Catholic, and was persecuted by 
the Pagans. Afterwards, becoming powerful and per- 
secuting in its turn, it underwent a vitiation of its very 
nature in Catholicism, whilst it was preserved in the 
Yaudois Valleys simple, free, and pure, as in the time 
of persecution." * 

From their residence in the Valleys, these Christians 
were termed Vaudois, or people of the Valleys. This 
term did not at first designate them as a religious sect, 
but was given to them merely because of their dwelling 
places. When Rome had launched against them her 
persecuting power, it became a term of reproach among 
Roman Catholics, and was, says Muston, " synonymous 
with magician or infidel." The Vaudois themselves 
called themselves only by the name of Christians. 

" Their Pastors were designated Barbas.f It was in 
the almost inaccessible solitude of a deep mountain pass 
that they had their school, where the whole influences 
of external nature were opposed to anything soft or 

* The Israel of the Alps : A Complete History of the Waldenses of Pied- 
mont and their Colonies. By Alexis Muston, D.D. Translated by 
Kev. John Montgomery, A.M. 2 vols. Blaekie & Son, London, 
1866. Yol. i. pp. 12, 13. 

t Literally an uncle— & term always commanding respect in South- 
ern France. 



26 CROSS AND CROWN. 

yielding in the soul. They were required to commit to 
memory the Gospels of St. Matthew and St. John, the 
general epistles, and a part of those of St. Paul. They 
were instructed, moreover, during two or three succes- 
sive winters, and trained to speak in Latin, in the Ro- 
mance language, and in Italian. After this they spent 
some years in retirement, and then were set apart to 
the holy ministry by the administration of the Lord's 
Supper, and by imposition of hands. They were sup- 
ported by the voluntary contributions of the people. 
These were divided annually in a general synod ; one 
part was given to the ministers, one to the poor, and 
the third was reserved for the missionaries of the 
Church. 

" These missionaries always went forth two and two, 
to wit, a young man and an old one. The latter was 
the Regidor, and his companion the Coadjutor. They 
traversed Italy, where they had stations organized in 
many places, and secret adherents in almost all the 
towns. .... 

" Each pastor was required to become a missionary 
in his turn. The younger ones were thus initiated into 
the delicate duties of evangelization — each of them 
being under the experienced guidance of a man of years, 
who, according to the discipline of his Church, was his 
superior, and whom he was bound to obey in everything 
as a matter of duty, and not merely out of deference. 
The old man, on his part, thus made his preparation for 
repose, by training for the Church successors worthy of it 



THE VAUDOIS. 27 

and of himself. His task being accomplished, he could 
die in peace, with the consolatory assurance of having 
committed the sacred trust of the Gospel into prudent 
and zealous hands. 

" Besides this, the Barbas received instructions in 
some trade or profession, by which they might be able 
to provide for their own wants. Some were hawkers, 
the others artisans, the greater part physicians or sur- 
geons, and all were acquainted with the cultivation of 
the soil, the keeping of flocks, to the care of which they 
had been accustomed in their early years. Very few 
of them were married ; and their perpetual missions, 
their poverty, their missionary tours, their life always 
spent amidst warfare and dangers, make it easy to un- 
derstand the reason of their celibacy. 

" In the annual synod, which was held in the Val- 
leys, inquiry was made concerning the conduct of the 
pastors, and changes . of residence were made amongst 
them. The Barbas actually employed in the ministry 
were changed from place to place every three years — two 
of them always exchanging places with another, except 
the aged men, who were no longer removed. A general 
director of the Church was named at each Synod, with 
the title of President, or Moderator. The latter title 
became more prevalent, and continues to this day. 

" The Vaudois Barbas were bound to visit the sick, 
whether sent for or not. They nominated arbiters in 
disputes ; they admonished those who behaved ill, and 
if remonstrances produced no effect, they went the 



28 CROSS AND CROWN. 

length of excommunication ; but it was very rare. 
Their preaching, catechizing, and other exercises of in- 
struction and devotion, were generally similar to those 
of the Reformed churches, except that the worshippers 
pronounced, with a low voice, the prayer which preceded 
and that which followed the sermon. The Yaudois 
likewise had hymns, which they only sung in private; 
and which, moreover, agrees with what we know of the 
customs of the primitive Church. 

" Their doctrines were equally analogous, or rather 
were remarkably identical with those of the apostolic 
times, and of the earliest fathers of the Church. They 
may be briefly summed up in these few words : The 
absolute authority and inspiration of the Bible — the 
Trinity in the Godhead — the sinful state of man — and 
free salvation by Jesus Christ — but, above all, faith 
working by love." * 

Such was the organization, and such were the doc- 
trines of the Apostolic Church of the Valleys of Pied- 
mont. 

The Church of Rome began by degrees to add to and 
change the faith and practices it had received from the 
Apostles. As it became strong and powerful it became 
corrupt. It began to neglect spiritual things, and to 
strive for temporal power, and each innovation upon, 
each addition to its ancient faith and practice was made 
for the deliberate object of obtaining and enforcing the 

* The Israel of the Alps. Vol. i. pp. 18, 19, 20. 



TEE VAUDOIS. 29 

supremacy it claimed over the kingdoms of the world. 
The pretensions of the Roman Church were stoutly re- 
sisted by the bishops and clergy of other lands. St. 
Ambrose, the famous Bishop of Milan, though he was 
subsequently forced to submit, always protested against 
the Bishop of Rome styling himself the successor of St, 
Peter, declaring that nobody could pretend to call him- 
self the successor of St. Peter unless he had the faith 
of St. Peter, and he openly denounced Pope Liberius as 
an Arian. Philastrius, Bishop of Brescia, a contempo- 
rary of St. Ambrose, Gaudentius, successor to Philas- 
trius, Rufinus of Aquileia, and others of equal import- 
ance, sustain St. Ambrose in his views, and unquali- 
fiedly condemn many things upon which the Church 
of Rome now insists. Mansuetus, Bishop of Milan, 
A. d. 677, denied the supremacy of the Pope, and in 
support of his assertion that the Pope was not the head 
of the Church, " directs attention to the fact that the 
Councils of Nice, Constantinople, Chalcedon, and many 
others, had been convoked by the emperors, and not by 
the Pope." 

Rome, however, was not dismayed by this opposition, 
and did not for a single moment desist from her efforts 
to subdue the world. She began by attacking the dio- 
ceses nearest to the Eternal City. When arguments 
could not prevail, bribery and corrupt practices were 
resorted to. Various superstitions and mystical observ- 
ances were invented to impress and control the weak- 
minded ; a gorgeous ritual was established to take captive 



30 CROSS AND CROWN. 

the imagination ; unlawful powers were vested in the 
clergy, to bind them more closely to the Pope. The 
Word of God — that great protest against the Roman 
innovations — was taken from the people 'and shut up, 
and learning and mental culture of all kinds were dis- 
couraged. The whole object of Rome was to make men 
so weak, so ignorant, so superstitious that they should 
not be able to detect the impositions practised upon 
them. Learning was almost driven from Europe and 
confined to the followers of Mahomet. The Pope and 
his adherents boldly struck at the Kings and Princes 
of Europe, well knowing that if they could reduce them 
to submission they could rely upon the civil arm to compel 
the obedience of the common people. It was an age of 
ignorance, and men were superstitious. Then, as now, 
Rome worked by means of these qualities. It is known 
to the reader how well she succeeded. For eight hun- 
dred years the contest was carried on. Kings and min- 
isters might change their policy, Rome never wavered, 
and at last the Pope was successful. The Church was 
supreme. Emperors and Kings bowed in humble sub- 
mission to the Pontiff, who was the supreme lord of 
Europe. No one dared openly to oppose the Pope. 
He silenced all opposition with the axe, the sword, the 
torch, or the rack. Yet, at the very summit of its tem- 
poral triumph, the Roman Church was rotten to the 
core. It was the most corrupt institution on earth. It 
had departed from the pure faith committed to it by 
the Apostles, and had inaugurated a reign of corruption 



THE VAUDOIS. 31 

and oppression such as has no parallel in history. 
Apostolic Christianity sought to raise man from the 
dust ; the faith of Rome degraded him to the level of 
the beasts of the field. 

During all these centuries the Vaudois Church con- 
tinued to exist, nestled under the shadow of its moun- 
tains, and safe in its obscurity. The Popes had greater 
things to think of than the subjugation of these Chris- 
tians of the Valleys. They had kings and dominions 
to subdue. The Yaudois, on their part, beheld with 
horror the gradual departure of the Roman Church from 
its primitive purity and simplicity. Warned by the 
career of Rome, this mountain Church clung with 
greater faith than ever to the authority and teachings 
of the Scriptures. It refused from the first to recognize 
the supremacy of the Bishop of Rome, stoutly denied 
that the Pope was the head of the Church, and refused 
to submit to his authority. When the worship of ima- 
ges was established, in the ninth century, the Yaudois 
refused to join in it, and denounced it as idolatrous. 
They rejected the Mass from the first as abhorrent to 
the pure doctrines of Christianity, and unconditionally 
refused to worship the Yirgin. They maintained that 
there was but one Mediator between God and sinful 
man — our blessed Saviour, Jesus Christ — and denied 
that either the Yirgin or the Saints had any power to 
help men, or to hear their prayers. They rejected the 
Pope's claim to supremacy over Kings, and held to the 
absolute independence of every State within its own 



32 CROSS AND CROWN. 

limits. Seemingly they took no share in the great 
struggle which was going on around them in all parts 
of Europe, but in reality they were exercising a power- 
ful influence upon the world. Their missionaries were 
everywhere, proclaiming the simple truths of Christi- 
anity, and stirring the hearts of men to their very 
depths. In Hungary, in Bohemia, in France, in Eng- 
land, in Scotland, as well as in Italy, they were work- 
ing with tremendous, though silent power. Lollard, 
who paved the way for WyclifFe in England, was a 
missionary from these Valleys. The Albigenses, whose 
struggle with Rome forms one of the most touching 
episodes of history, owed their knowledge of the truth 
to the Vaudois missions. In Germany and Bohemia 
the Vaudois teachings heralded, if they did not hasten, 
the Reformation, and Huss and Jerome, Luther and 
Calvin did little more than carry on the work begun by 
the Vaudois missionaries. 

It is difficult to point out the exact time at which 
Rome first directed her attention to the Vaudois. 
There is still preserved a Vaudois poem, called The 
Noble Lesson, dating from the end of the eleventh or 
the beginning of the twelfth century, which relates 
instances of persecution previous to that time ; but it is 
believed that the first general persecution of the Vaudois 
occurred about the year 1209. This was more of a 
political than a religious warfare. It was brought about 
by the hostility of the Emperor Otho IV. to the Duke 
of Savoy. The duke had refused to support him against 



THE VAUDOIS. 33 

his rival, Philip of Swabia, and, in revenge, the Em- 
peror authorized the Archbishop of Turin, who was a 
Prince of the Empire, to destroy the Yaudois, who were 
the subjects of the Duke of Savoy, by force of arms. 
Very little was accomplished, however, by this effort, 
and the primitive Church continued to exist in safety 
down to the very period of the Reformation. " The 
Yaudois," says Muston, " are the chain which unites 
the reformed churches with the first disciples of our 
Saviour. It is in vain that Popery, renegade from 
evangelical verities, has a thousand times sought to 
break this chain; it resists all her efforts. Empires 
have crumbled — dynasties have fallen — but this chain 
of scriptural testimony has not been broken, because its 
strength is not from men, but from God." 

This pure Church, existing so near to the Eternal 
City, was a constant rebuke to the Papacy, and repeated 
efforts were made to win the mountain Christians over 
to the faith of Rome. All were unsuccessful, however, 
and the Roman Catholic Church began the attempt to 
conquer the consciences of the Yaudois, which for five 
hundred years it carried on without remorse, only to 
meet with a crushing defeat in the end. 

About the year 1308 an attempt was made by the 
Inquisitors to force the Yalley of Angrogna into 
Romanism, but the inhabitants rose in arms, and 
chased them from the Yalley. 

In 1472 Amadeus IX., Duke of Savoy, died, leaving 
his throne to his widow Yolande, the sister of Louis XI. 



34 CROSS AND CROWN. 

of France. On the 23d of January, 1476, "without 
having previously found any fault with the Vaudois," 
the duchess, instigated by the priests, commanded the 
Lords of Pignerol and Cavour to use any means within 
their power to compel the Vaudois to enter the Church 
of Rome. The Vaudois, on their part, demanded that 
the Eomish Church should be restored to its primitive 
purity. The duchess then called upon her great vas- 
sals to join her in more decisive measures ; but before 
she could put her designs in force, she was seized and 
carried off by the Duke of Burgundy, who feared she 
would give assistance to her brother, the King of 
France, with whom he was at war. 

Yolande was succeeded by her second son, Charles I., 
who resolved to continue the work his mother had 
begun. In 1485, he caused an investigation of the 
doctrines and practices of the Yaudois to be made, and 
in 1486 he laid the result of this investigation before 
the Pope. This report showed the Pope how wide was 
the difference between his own faith and that of the 
mountain Church, and how great the danger to Rome 
of allowing this leaven of truth to remain undisturbed 
in the very heart of Europe. 

Pope Innocent VIII. was alarmed for his Church. 
He had not believed that so much truth had been left 
in the world, and he resolved to destroy it. Pope, 
though he was, his personal character was infamous. 
Bound by his vows to a life of celibacy, he was yet the 



THE VAUDOIS. 35 

father of eight illegitimate children.* The humblest 
Vaudois could show a cleaner record than this Pontiff 
Nevertheless, Innocent resolved that the Vaudois should 
no longer exist, and, in 1487, he proclaimed a general 
crusade against them, and summoned all the Catholic 
powers of Europe to take up arms for their extermi- 
nation, " absolving beforehand all who should take part 
in this crusade from all ecclesiastical penalties, general 
or special, setting them free from the obligation of 
vows which they might have made, legitimating their 
possession of goods which they might have wrongfully 
acquired, and concluding with a promise of the remis- 
sion of all sins to every one who should slay a heretic. 
Moreover, he annulled all contracts subscribed in favor 
of the Vaudois, commanded their domestics to abandon 
them, forbade any one to give them any assistance, and 
authorized all and sundry to seize upon their goods." 

The execution of the orders of the Pontiff was 
intrusted to Albert Cattanee, or, as he is generally 
called, Albertus de Capitaneis, archdeacon of Cre- 
mona, who was made Legate. Under his orders there 
was assembled an army of adventurers, brigands, rob- 
bers, and assassins from all parts of Italy, who were 
attracted by the hope of plunder ; and to this force the 
King of France and Duke of Savoy added a column of 
18,000 regular troops. The Legate began his opera- 

* An old distich of that period thus refers to this fact : 
" Octo nocens genuit tolidemque puellas; 
Hunc merito poterit dicer e Roma pair em V 



36 CROSS AND CROWN. 

tions by sending into the Vaudois settlements a host of 
monks as missionaries, hoping to convert the people by 
their preaching. These missionaries were unsuccessful, 
however; and then the army was directed upon the 
Valleys of Angrogna and Pragela. The Yaudois were 
but poorly armed, but they met the invaders at every 
point and routed them with great slaughter. In the 
Val Louise, in France, however, Cattanee was more 
successful, and he put the entire population, some 
3000 persons, to the sword. 

From this time the Yaudois never knew any rest. 
Their peaceful valleys became the scene of a constant 
struggle. The monks and priests took care that the 
persecutions thus begun by the command of the Pope 
should never cease. Many of them established them- 
selves in the Valleys, under the protection of the civil 
authorities, and the Inquisition was, somewhat later, 
established at Pignerol and Turin. The Vaudois vil- 
lages were visited with fire and sword. Several of the 
Barbas were seized, condemned and burned at the 
stake, and the people were over and over again forced 
to abandon their pleasant homes and take refuge in 
the mountains, in order to escape the cruelty of the 
priests and the soldiers whom they brought with them. 
Yet scarcely any embraced the Roman faith. It was a 
season of fearful trial to them, but they endured it all, 
"as seeing Him who is invisible." In all the accounts 
of the persecutions which have come down to us we 
read that the priests were the most active and intole- 



THE VAUDOIS. 37 

rant. The people of Rome themselves were so indig- 
nant at the cruelties practised by order of the Pope 
that they burned down the Papal Palace, upon the 
death of Paul III* 

Thus the time passed on until the Reformation 
dawned upon the world. The Vaudois were well 
pleased at this general awakening of the human mind. 
They entered into correspondence with the Reformers 
in various parts of Europe, and sent several of their 
Barbas to them to instruct them. The Reformers on 
their part, admitted the antiquity of the Vaudois rites 
and the purity of their faith, and treated the mountain 
Church with the greatest respect. On the 12th of 
September, 1532, a Synodal Assembly was held at 
Angrogna. It was attended by a number of deputies 
from the Reformed Churches in France and Switzer- 
land. Among them was William Farrel, of France, to 
whom we shall refer again in another part of this work. 
He manifested the greatest interest in the manuscript 
copies of the Bible which the Vaudois had preserved 
from the earliest times, and at his instance the entire 
Bible was translated into French, and sent as a free 
gift from the Vaudois to the French Church. 

But while the Reformation brought the Vaudois into 
active correspondence with the Reformers of Europe, 
it also brought to them a double share of persecution 
at the hands of Rome. Martyrdoms innumerable now 

* The Israel of the Alps. Vol. i. p. 93. 



38 CR OSS AND CRO WN. 

occurred. " There is not a town in Piedmont," said a 
Vaudois Barba, writing about this time, "in which 
some of our brethren have not been put to death." In 
1540, the Jesuits began the warfare which they have 
since waged upon civilization. In 1545, the Council of 
Trent assembled. In the deliberations of this body the 
Jesuits took an active part, and ultimately succeeded 
in overcoming all opposition, and in reorganizing and 
consolidating the Church of Rome upon their own plan. 
By the decrees of this Council, the Pope was placed 
above all earthly sovereigns, and his commands were 
made superior to the laws of any civil State. A 
rigid priestly despotism was enforced upon the Roman 
Catholic world, and liberty of conscience was denounced 
as the deadliest of all sins. Opinions and manners 
were to be decided in Rome for all the world. There 
was not a relation of life, a thought of the mind, a 
feeling of the heart that was to be free from the tyran- 
nical direction of Rome. Men were not to be allowed 
liberty of any description, and the decrees of Rome 
were to be enforced by the most barbarous persecutions. 
The Inquisition was set up again, with the full sanction 
of the Council, and by means of this terrible weapon 
the Church reduced Italy to universal obedience, every- 
where silencing opposition with persecution. In Venice 
the Protestants were drowned in the Adriatic Sea, and 
in Rome they were burned. In Germany, Charles V., 
at the command of the Pope and the " Fathers of the 
Church," began the first of the great religious wars 



THE VAUDOIS. 39 

which spread ruin, sorrow, and death all over his fair 
domain. In France the King, at the instance of the 
Church, drove the Huguenots into open revolt, and in 
other parts of Europe, the Inquisition and the Jesuits 
marked their progress by the blood of the martyrs who 
died under their cruelties. 

The Yaudois were the especial objects of the hatred 
of Rome, and this period of their history is marked by 
many martyrdoms. The Pope and the Jesuits found 
time to note almost each individual Vaudois who re- 
fused to submit to them, and in October, 1566, the 
Pontiff threatened to break off diplomatic relations with 
the Duke of Savoy if he refused to put to deatli a poor 
Protestant named George Olivet. " Jordan Tertian was 
burned alive at Suza ; Hyppoly te Rossier was burned at 
Turin ; Villermin Ambroise was hanged on the Col de 
M£ane; Ugon Chiamps, of Fenestrelle, was taken at 
Suza, and conducted to Turin, where his bowels were 
torn out, and flung into a basin, without his sufferings 
being terminated even by this frightful torture. Peter 
Geymonat, of Bobi, died at Lucerna, with a living cat 
in the interior of his body ; Mary Romaine was buried 
alive at Roche-Plate ; Madeleine Fontane suffered the 
same fate at St. John ; Michel Gonet, a man almost a 
hundred years of age. was burned alive at Sarcena ; 
Susanna Michelin, at the same place, was left in a 
dying state upon the snow. Bartholomew Frache, 
having been hacked with sabres, had his wounds filled 
with quicklime, and expired in this manner at Fenil. 



40 CROSS AND CROWN. 

Daniel Michelin had his tongue torn out at Bobi, for 
having praised God. James Baridon died, covered with 
brimstone matches, which they had fastened between 
his fingers, and about his lips, his nostrils, and all parts 
of his body. Daniel Revel had his mouth filled with 
gunpowder, which was set on fire, and the explosion 
of which tore his head in pieces. Mary Mounin was 
taken in the Combe of Liousa, the flesh of her cheeks 
and of her chin was removed, so that the jaws were 
exposed, and in this way she was left to die. Paul 
Gamier was slowly mangled at Rora; Thomas Mar- 
guet mutilated in an indescribable manner at the Fort 
of Mirabouc, and Susanna Jaquin cut in pieces at La 
Tour. A number of young women of Tailiaret, in 
order to escape outrages still more dreadful to them 
than death, flung themselves from a precipice, and per- 
ished among the rocks. Sarah Rostagnol was cleft up 
through the middle of her body, and was left in a 
dying state on the road from Eyrals to Lucerna. Anne 
Charbonnier was impaled alive, and borne in this state 
like a banner from St. Jean to La Tour. At Paesane, 
Daniel Rambaud had his nails torn out, then his fin- 
gers cut off, then his feet and hands were severed by 
blows of hatchets, and then his arms and legs were 
separated from his body upon each refusal that he 
made to abjure the Gospel. 

" There is not a rock in the Yaudois Valleys which 
may not be looked on as a monument of death, not a 
meadow but has been the scene of some execution, not 



THE VAUDOIS. 41 

a village but has had its martyrs. No history, however 
complete, can contain a record of them all. 

"In 1560 many of the Reformed or Vaudois of 
Piedmont were made prisoners, having been surprised 
in the very act of social prayer and religious assemblies 
beyond the limits of the actual territory of the tfaudois 
Valleys ; and by a procedure more wortny of Mahome- 
tans than of Christians they were condemned to be 
burned three days after their incarceration, without 
pleadings, without examination, without the formalities 
of trial, and simply on the strength of the accusation 
alone. However, if they made profession of Popery, 
they were set at liberty ; but if they refused to go to 
Mass their heresy was demonstrated ; in that case they 
had these three days allowed them to abjure, and if 
they did not yield, an end was put to their life. 

" Many prisoners also perished without its ever being 
known what became of them. . . ." 

One of the most notable of these Yaudois martyrs 
was the eloquent and gifted young preacher, John Louis 
Paschal. He was captured in Calabria, in the kingdom 
of Naples, whither he had gone as a missionary. He 
was taken to Rome and there condemned to death. He 
was kept in prison for a long time, his tormentors using 
every effort to induce him to recant, but he could not 
be moved either by fear or bribes. In September, 1560, 
he was taken to the square of St. Angelo, and there 
burned in the presence of Pope Pius IV. and the great 
dignitaries of the Roman Church. When his body was 
consumed, his ashes were thrown into the Tiber. 



42 CROSS AND CROWN. 

The great square of Turin was the scene of many 
martyrdoms. The victims were guilty of but one 
offence, that of maintaining the Gospel as they had 
received it from the Apostles. At many of these sad 
scenes, the people of Turin, moved with sympathy for 
the sufferers, wept bitterly, but the priests, especially 
the Jesuits and Franciscans, were pitiless. Rome had 
become drunk with the blood of the saints, and the 
followers of Ignatius Loyola were proof against the 
feeling of pity. Some of the monasteries kept in their 
pay hired bands of ruffians and cut-throats, whom they 
sent into the Vaudois Valleys for the especial purpose 
of " exterminating the heretics." These wretches per- 
formed their work well. They murdered old men and 
children, with the most barbarous cruelty, they ravished 
women and then killed them, and burned villages and 
laid waste farms and vineyards. To all these acts the 
priests gave their sanction. Murder, rape, arson, and 
robbery, were perfectly lawful in their eyes when used 
against the Vaudois. The priests prevented the Dukes 
of Savoy from knowing the actual condition of their 
subjects. They described the Vaudois as rebels, sorce- 
rers, despisers of all religion, and as the greatest ene- 
mies to God and man the earth contained. Again and 
again did the Piedmontese sovereigns, seeking to inves- 
tigate the matter for themselves, discover the falseness 
of these charges. The priests, however, did not aban- 
don them, but continued to poison the mind of the 
duke against his subjects, and the duke, who was too 



THE VAUDOIS. 43 

often weak and superstitious, the slave of the priests, 
allowed the " Holy Church " to have its own way, and 
placed all his power at its command. 

All the ingenuity, all the cruelty of Rome, however, 
could not conquer the consciences of the Christians of 
the Yaudois Valleys. These brave men and women 
could suffer hardship, persecution, and even death, but 
they could not deny the religion which sustained them 
in the midst of these trials. Scarcely any abandoned 
the primitive faith. They defended themselves as well 
as they could against the attacks of the priests and 
their hirelings, and, at length, in despair, appealed to 
their sovereign for justice and protection. They pro- 
tested that they had ever been loyal to their sovereign, 
that they were honest and virtuous people, who feared 
God, and scrupulously obeyed the civil law, and that 
all they desired was to be allowed to live in peace and 
be permitted to worship God as their consciences 
required them. Their appeal was treated with con- 
tempt, and the Duke of Savoy joined the Pope and the 
kings of France and Spain, in the new crusade against 
the Yaudois, which the Pope had succeeded in organ- 
izing in 1560. 

Before proceeding to open war, however, the Duke 
of Savoy, influenced by his nephew, Philip, Count of 
Racconis, who was disposed to befriend them, attempted 
to win the people of the valleys over to Romanism by 
sending missionaries among them. The Yaudois, on 
their part, refused to listen to the monks, or to attend 



44 CROSS AND CROWN. 

Mass. They drew up a formal statement of their reli- 
gious doctrines and practices, and forwarded it to the 
duke. They assured him of their loyalty to him, and 
asked that they might be permitted to publicly discuss 
their own faith aud that of the Romish Church with 
the missionaries who were to be sent among them, 
offering to abandon their doctrines if they were proved 
to be erroneous. The duke sent this statement to 
Rome, with an intimation that he thought their request 
for discussion was only fair. Pope Pius IV. made 
answer, " I will never permit that points which have 
been canonically decided should be opened to discus- 
sion. The dignity of the Church requires that every 
one should submit himself to her constitutions, disput- 
ing nothing ; and the duty of my office is to proceed 
with all rigor against those who do not choose to be 
in subjection thereto." 

There being no hope of a peaceable conversion of the 
Vaudois, the duke was compelled to proceed to hostili- 
ties. The Papal Nuncio and the priests gave Emma- 
nuel Philibert no rest, and about the beginning of the 
month of October, 1560, imperiously demanded that he 
should obey the orders of the Pope, and begin the war 
at once. The duke weakly complied. He organized 
a strong army under the command of the Count of 
Trinity, an able general. "He levied troops," says 
Muston, "in Piedmont, promised a full pardon to all 
condemned persons, fugitives from justice, vagabonds, 
and outlaws, who should enrol themselves as comba- 



THE VAUDOIS. 45 

tants against the Vaudois, in whose sight persecuting 
fanaticism already permitted its triumphant joy to 
break out. Their friends at a distance repaired to the 
Valleys to persuade those who were dear to them to 
leave the scene of danger. The inhabitants of the plain 
took away the infants they had sent thither to be 
nursed. Catholics of kind and humane disposition, 
who had relatives in the mountains, entreated those 
whom they loved to abjure rather than suffer them- 
selves to be destroyed. It seemed that all was on the 
point of being consumed in a total and inevitable 
destruction. The consternation was general." 

The Count of Lucerna, a powerful noble, was strongly 
attached to the Vaudois, and he exerted all his influ- 
ence with them to induce them to yield to the demands 
of the Pope, or at least to send away their pastors, and 
to allow the Mass to be said in their Valleys until the 
storm had blown over. They thanked him for the 
interest he had shown in their behalf, but refused to 
take his advice. " We must, above all," they said, " do 
that which the love of God and of truth directs us. If 
the circumstances in which we are placed are serious, 
our duties are still more serious. The times may 
change, but the Bible never changes, and our con- 
sciences cannot be altered." 

" Let your pastors, at least, go and hide themselves 
for a few days," said the count. " They will come and 
celebrate Mass at Angrogna ; you will not attend it ; 
the duke will be satisfied, and the armies will be 
withdrawn." 



46 CROSS AND CROWN. 

" But why this hypocrisy ? " asked the Vaudois. 
" Must we do good as men do evil, concealing it ? No ! 
May God protect us ! We will not be ashamed of His 
ministers, for then He would be ashamed of us." 

The count was overcome with grief at the failure of 
his efforts. He regarded the Vaudois as lost. 

Meanwhile the army under the Count of Trinity was 
rapidly organized. The count published a proclama- 
tion, which was posted in all the villages, that the 
Vaudois country would be ravaged and destroyed by 
fire and sword if the people did not embrace the Roman 
Catholic faith. On the 1st of November, 1560, the 
army commenced its march, and encamped at Bubiano, 
a village of the Plain of Piedmont. It was made up 
of adventurers, and was without discipline. From the 
commencement of the march, the soldiers began to 
commit all sorts of excesses, and, believing themselves 
to be already in the Vaudois country, made Catholics 
as well as Protestants the victims of their outrages. 

The Vaudois, on their part, were not idle. At the 
first warning of the danger which threatened them, 
they began to gather together their possessions most 
necessary to their subsistence, and to take measures for 
their common protection and safety. The pastors 
redoubled their labors. The religious assemblies were 
never more largely attended. A day of solemn fasting 
and prayer was observed, after which all joined in the 
public celebration of the Lord's Supper, as a preparation 
for their coming trials. This done, they collected their 



THE VAUDOIS. 47 

flocks and herds, and abandoning their homes in the 
Valleys, set out for retreats which had been designated 
in the fastnesses of the high mountains. They gave up 
everything to their persecutors but their faith, and that 
they took with them to the mountains. There in caves 
and fissures of the rocks they hid themselves until they 
could prepare more substantial habitations. " Thus," 
says Gilles, "did these poor people prepare, with in- 
credible resolution and cheerfulness, to receive from the 
hand of God all the afflictions with which it might 
seem good to Him to afflict them. Nothing was to be 
heard from vale to mountain but the psalms and hymns 
of those who transported the sick, the infirm, the aged, 
the women and children to the securest retreats of their 
rocks." " So for eight days," adds Richard, " you could 
see nothing but people passing and repassing on these 
rugged paths, diligently bearing luggage and little arti- 
cles of furniture ; and among these worthy people none 
regretted his property, so resolute were they to await 
patiently all the good pleasure of God." 

The Count of Racconis, Philip of Savoy, touched by 
the heroism of the Yaudois, wrote to his uncle, the 
duke : " These unhappy people persist in their opinions, 
but they are not willing to take up arms against their 
sovereign; some of them are going away from the 
place, others courageously await martyrdom in the 
midst of their families — a marvellous sight, and very 
piteous to behold." 

The army continued to advance, carrying every- 



48 CROSS AND CROWN. 

thing before it, and visiting its outrages upon Catho- 
lics and Protestants alike. The Catholic inhabitants 
of the country, now reduced to despair, " and desi- 
ring," says Muston, a to secure the maidenly chastity 
of their daughters from the brutal grossness of that law- 
less soldiery, did a thing worthy of the most admired 
times. Knowing the rigid purity of the morals of the 
Vaudois, the strength of their fastnesses, and the devo- 
tedness of those who were to defend them, they saw no 
refuge for their children more safe than these very 
retreats, and did not hesitate to confide the honor of 
their families to the virtuous fidelity of the Vaudois 
cottagers. Accordingly many of them took their trem- 
bling wives and children, and left them amongst these 
heroic mountaineers. 

" It was surely wonderful to see these young Catholic 
women committed with confidence to the care of the 
Protestants, at the moment when Catholicism was march- 
ing in arms against them. But this confidence was not 
misplaced. The Yaudois defended the sacred charge 
which had been intrusted to them with as much courage 
and respect as their own families. Without for a mo- 
ment entertaining the thought of making precious host- 
ages of these young people who were in their hands, and 
of taking advantage of the circumstance against their 
adversaries, they generously exposed themselves in 
their defence, concealing them instead of exposing them 
to danger ; and after having preserved them from out- 
rage, they restored them to their friends, without dream- 



TEE VAUDOIS. 49 

ing of any recompense. Incredible as this fact may 
appear, all the historians of the times, Gilles, Richard, 
De Thou, and Crespin, make mention of it; and it 
affords the most beautiful testimony which their adver- 
saries could have rendered to the virtue and generosity 
of the Vaudois."* 

The Catholic army was at first successful. The 
Vaudois were but poorly armed, and had not contem- 
plated a forcible resistance at the outset; but seeing 
that death or apostasy was to be their fate, they took 
up arms, and fortifying the mountain passes, made a 
stout resistance to their foes. A few victories supplied 
in a great measure their deficiency in weapons, and thus 
they managed to hold the Count of Trinity in the lower 
Valleys until the winter wrapped the mountains in snow 
and froze the streams. The Vaudois, being natives of 
the country, found less trouble than their adversaries 
in carrying on a winter campaign. They would issue 
frequently from their refuges, and falling upon detached 
parties of the Catholic soldiery, would drive them into 
the plains below, or hurl them headlong over the cliffs. 
In one or two instances five or ten men held a moun- 
tain pass against a regiment. Fifty Vaudois once 
defeated twelve hundred soldiers. The crusaders defil- 
ing through some difficult pass would be often startled, 
and put to flight with heavy loss, by a furious avalanche 
of stones and heavy trees hurled down upon them by 
the Vaudois from the heights above. 

4 * The Israel of the Alps. Vol. i. p. 252. 



50 CROSS AND CROWN. 

Yet, even though successful in so many encounters, 
the Yaudois were themselves great sufferers. Their con- 
dition was very pitiful. Their places of refuge were lo- 
cated high up in the mountains in the midst of snow and 
ice, and their dwelling places were rude huts of stone 
which scarcely protected them from the inclemency of the 
weather. Far below them they could see their pleasant 
Valleys and comfortable homes in the possession of the 
Romish soldiers, while their simple churches were used 
by the priests for the celebration of the Mass. Yet no 
one wavered. All were resolved to endure unto the end, 
to suffer anything rather than abandon the truth. They 
were well aware that with the returning spring their ene- 
mies would make another effort for their destruction, and 
they took measures to ensure their common safety. On 
the 21st of January, 1561, they held a solemn assembly 
on the hill of Sibaoud, a platform of snow " over against 
the mountains of Sestrieres and of the chain of Guine- 
vert, where the Clusone takes its rise from the glaciers." 
In order to reach the meeting place, the delegates had to 
cross the mountains by unfrequented paths, which the 
snow had rendered almost impassable. On the previous 
day proclamation had been made throughout the Valleys 
that the inhabitants must, within twenty-four hours, 
" make up their minds to go to Mass, or to endure all 
the penalties reserved for heretics — the stake, the gal- 
leys, the rack, the gibbet, and all the other corollaries 
of Catholicism." The Vaudois leaders at once resorted 
to prayer for guidance and assistance. When they rose 



THE VAUDOIS. 51 

from their knees, the delegates of Pragela and of the 
Valley of Lucerna stood up and pronounced this 
solemn Covenant, which was sworn to by the 
who^e assembly in the midst of the ice and snow by 
which they were surrounded : 

" In the name of the Vaudois churches of the Alps, 
of Dauphiny, and of Piedmont, which are all here 
united, and whose representatives we are, we promise, 
with our hands upon the Bible, and in the presence of 
God, that all our Valleys will courageously stand by 
one another in what relates to religion, without 
prejudice to the obedience due to their lawful superiors. 
We promise to maintain the Bible, entire and without 
admixture, according to the usage of the true Apostolic 
Church, steadfastly continuing in this holy religion, 
although it be at the peril of our lives, in order that 
we may be able to leave it to our children intact and 
pure, as we have received it from our fathers. We 
promise aid and succor to our persecuted brethren, and 
not to regard individual interests, but the common 
cause, and not to wait upon men, but upon God." 

Simple and sublime words, .and worthy of the noble 
men by whom they were uttered. 

United by this Covenant, the Vaudois renewed their 
efforts to meet the Bomish army. They increased the 
strength of their fortifications, established new posts 
and a code of signals, by which news of importance 
could be rapidly communicated from point to point, and 
hurried forward the preparation of pikes and such other 



52 CROSS AND CROWN. 

weapons as they could procure. Their best marksmen 
were organized into what was called a Flying Company, 
whose duty it was to be in readiness to march with 
speed to any point threatened by the enemy. Two 
pastors were detailed to accompany this force, in order 
to conduct religious worship for them, and to prevent 
them from needlessly shedding blood in the excitement 
of battle. 

In the month of February, 1561, the Count of Trinity 
again put his army in motion, this time directing his 
efforts against the Valley of Angrogna. At the upper 
end of this valley was the spot the Yaudois had chosen 
as a stronghold. It was called the Pra Del Tor. Pra 
Del Tor, says Muston, "is not situated on a height, 
but in a deep recess amongst the mountains. It is the 
bottom of a valley, savage and austere as the peaks of 
the Alps, remote from observation, and free from bustle 
as a nook of the forest. The steep mountain slopes 
bring down into this deep dell the headwaters of the 
torrent of Angrogna, which escapes amongst the rocks. 
This verdant basin, surrounded with frightful precipices, 
seems a dark crater, yawning at the feet of the 
traveller who views it from the lofty peaks, and looks 
like an oasis in the desert when he has descended into 
it. A difficult path, which winds among and around 
the rocks, is the only outlet by which visitors can enter 
or depart from it." It was along this path, so difficult, 
and so capable of defence, that the Count of Trinity 
was obliged to march his army. The capture of Pra 



THE VAUDOIS. 53 

Del Tor would have been a great gain to the crusaders, 
for here the Yaudois had placed their families for safety. 
Here had long been established their seminary at 
which their Barbas were trained, and here they had 
collected their principal supplies of food and arms. 
They fully appreciated the importance of the position, 
and fortified the defile leading to it as far as their 
limited resources would allow them. 

The Count of Trinity continued his march up the 
valley, and early in February reached the entrance to 
the Pra Del Tor. On the 14th of February, he made 
a sharp attack with two columns upon the Yaudois 
defences. The first column was met with determination 
by the Yaudois and put to flight. At this moment the 
other column was seen painfully making its way along 
the mountain side. The defenders allowed this force 
to become entangled in the ravine, and then falling 
upon it cut it to pieces. Its commander was knocked 
down with a stone, and his head was cut off with his 
own sword. The entire force would have been 
destroyed by the Yaudois, but for the interference of 
the pastor of the Flying Company, who, in order to 
give the fugitives a chance to escape, rushed into the 
fight, and called upon his men to unite with him in 
thanks to God for the victory they had won. 

During the battle the Yaudois families which had 
taken refuge in the Pra Del Tor remained in constant 
prayer to God for success. Their prayer was answered, 
and they were saved. The victory threw into the 



54 CROSS AND CROWN. 

hands of the Vaudois large quantities of arms, armor, 
and ammunition, which had been abandoned by their 
enemy in their flight, and which they greatly needed. 

Beaten at the Pra Del Tor, the Count of Trinity fell 
back into the lower Valley, burning and ravaging as he 
went ; the Vaudois followed him, and endeavored, by 
throwing up a series of intrenchments across this part of 
the Valley, to hold him back ; but in a few days he 
advanced again, and by the vigor and success of his 
movements obliged them to abandon the lower Valley, 
and confine their defence to the upper portion and the 
mountains. 

On the 17th of March, 1561, the Sabbath day, the 
Count of Trinity renewed the attack upon Pra Del 
Tor, with a force of 7000 men. The soldiers displayed 
great gallantry, and the attack was conducted with 
skill and vigor, but it was unsuccessful. The soldiers 
made charge after charge, but only to be hurled back by 
the heroic Vaudois. Even the Spanish infantry, the 
flower of the whole force, was routed with terrible loss. 
The Count of Trinity burst into tears as he beheld the 
sufferings of his troops, while the men themselves began 
to murmur and to refuse to continue the fight, 
exclaiming, "God fights for them, and we do them 
wrong" 

The Vaudois might have followed up their victory by 
a pursuit which would have utterly destroyed the 
Eoman Catholic army ; but they did not take this step. 
" The principal leaders, and especially the ministers/' 



THE VAUD0I9. 55 

says Gilles, " would not consent to that pursuit, for they 
had resolved from the beginning, that when in the last 
extremity they were forced to defend themselves by 
arms, they would keep always within the limits of 
legitimate defence, both out of respect for their 
superiors, and in order to spare human blood, and that 
in every victory granted to them by the God of armies, 
they would use their victory as moderately as possible." 

The Count bf Trinity now proposed a truce, to which 
the Vaudois consented. On the night of the 16th of 
April, without giving notice to the Vaudois of the 
termination of the truce, he put his army in. motion 
towards the Pra Del Tor, hoping to take its defenders 
by surprise, and capture the place by the suddenness of 
his treacherous attack. The religious habits of the 
Vaudois now stood them in good service. It was their 
custom to begin every day with public prayer, and to 
conclude this exercise before sunrise. As they came 
forth from their place of worship on the morning of 
the 17th of April, the first rays of the sun lit up 
the gloom of the valley, and revealed the Romish 
soldiers in motion down the side of the mountain. 

The Vaudois at once divined their intentions, and 
the alarm was sounded. Six resolute men posted them- 
selves in the defile leading to the Pra Del Tor, at a 
point where it was so narrow that only two men could 
march abreast. As the enemy appeared around a bend 
in the rocks, these intrepid marksmen opened fire upon 
them. The first two who appeared were shot down, 



56 CROSS AND CROWN. 

and the two who followed them. This brought the 
column to a halt, and for a quarter of an hour the six 
brave men held the army in check. 

The delay thus gained was of the highest importance. 
It gave the other Vaudois time to rally at the point of 
danger, and these now gathered in great numbers along 
the sides of the mountains which enclosed the defile. 
The Catholic army had now gotten fairly into the pass, 
and had become so entangled in it that it could not 
move either way. The head of the column had halted 
irresolutely unable to pass the point swept by the fire 
of the six heroes, and the remainder of the troops had 
crowded up from the rear, unable to deploy in conse- 
quence of the narrowness of the pathway. 

Suddenly, at a given signal, the sides of the moun- 
tain seemed to quiver, and from either hand there 
descended upon the soldiers a mass of huge rocks and 
logs, which crushed whole companies where they stood. 
The Catholics were seized with a sudden panic, hun- 
dreds were swept over the cliffs into the abyss below. 
The army wavered, and turned to flee, followed all the 
way along that dreadful path of death by the fatal 
shower of stones which filled the whole Valley with 
its thunderous sound. The rout was complete, and the 
Vaudois, springing forward in pursuit, chased the cru- 
saders into the lower Valley. The Vaudois lost not a 
man ; but the Catholics were terribly cut up. 

This last victory was decisive. The soldiers were 
completely disheartened by their want of success, and 



THE VAUDOIS. 57 

vowed they would never march into the mountains 
again. They deserted in great numbers, and the 
Count of Trinity fell sick. The Duke of Savoy, glad 
to put an end to the war, recalled his army, and made 
peace with the Yaudois on the 5th of June, 1561. By 
the terms of this treaty, he granted the Yaudois am- 
nesty for past offences ; liberty of conscience, and the 
right to conduct their worship in public in their own 
Yalleys, with permission to such as had abjured to 
return to their own Church ; he restored all confiscated 
property of the Yaudois ; gave leave to the banished 
and fugitives to return to their native country ; and 
released his prisoners. 

This treaty was greeted with a howl of rage by the 
Roman Catholic clergy. The Nuncio protested 
against it, and the Pope complained bitterly of it 
to the Consistory. Nothing would satisfy the Pon- 
tiff and the Jesuits but the total annihilation of the 
Yaudois. 

The treaty was nominally observed, however, and 
for nearly one hundred years there was a practical 
peace in the Yaudois Yalleys. By this is meant that 
there were no general persecutions such as had driven 
the mountaineers to arms. The Dukes of Savoy were 
not, it is true, the best of sovereigns to these faithful 
people ; but had they been left to manage their own 
affairs in peace, they would have allowed the Yaudois 
all the freedom they asked or desired. The Roman 
Catholic Church would not let the duke manage his 



58 CROSS AND CROWN. 

own affairs. It surrounded him with a host of priests 
and dignitaries, all of whom were sworn to carry out 
as far as possible the Jesuitical programme with respect 
to the Vaudois, and while it did not succeed in excit- 
ing a general persecution during this period, it did suc- 
cessfully conduct a number of petty attacks, which 
effectually prevented the Vaudois from ever feeling a 
sense of security. The Yaudois were heavily taxed, 
but they # paid all the imposts cheerfully. They were 
annoyed in every conceivable way ; they were forbid- 
den to carry on certain employments, or to reside 
beyond the limits of their Valleys ; their Barbas were 
seized and burned at Turin and at Pignerol ; but 
though they frequently met force with force, they 
entertained no thought of rebelling against their 
prince. The Jesuits sent missionaries among them, 
who not only undertook to preach to them, but offered 
rich rewards to all who would embrace the faith of 
Rome. Neither their preachings nor their bribes could 
effect anything, however. Jesuitism was powerless 
against Christianity. The Jesuits practically discour- 
aged labor ; they taught that falsehood and deceit were 
excusable when used for the cause of the Romish 
Church ; they tolerated immorality in men and women 
who were outwardly " good Catholics ; " they sanc- 
tioned or winked at assassination, robbery, and violence, 
when the perpetrators were u faithful sons of the 
ChurQh." Every means was justifiable with them 
where the end was such as they approved, and they 



THE VAUDOIS: 59 

did not scruple to make use of crime, violence, and 
sin — of every attribute of hell — to accomplish their 
ends. The Vaudois, on the other hand, taught that 
labor was honorable and idleness sinful. They encour- 
aged education, and set their faces sternly against igno- 
rance. They demanded and exhibited to the world a 
high degree of purity of manners and thought. Crime 
was almost unknown among them, while it was rife in 
all parts of Europe. Among them were heard no 
sneers at female virtue, such as might be heard in any 
aristocratic assemblage of Europe at that period, for 
every Vaudois maiden and matron was absolutely 
chaste, and the Yaudois men set the purity of their 
women above all value. They scorned to use wrong 
means to attain legitimate objects. They required that 
every action should be shaped according to the pure 
pattern of the Gospel, and they were willing to die 
rather than depart from the truth. The contrast 
between their condition and the state of the Roman 
Catholic people of Europe at this time, affords the best 
argument in their favor that could be given. 

Thus the Vaudois Church continued to exist until 
near the middle of the seventeenth century. It had 
held the faith uncontaminated for all that time, and 
for six hundred years had maintained it successfully 
against Rome. This century was to witness momentous 
events in its history. Its troubles began in 1630, when 
a French army entered the Piedmontese Valleys to 
oppose the Duke of Savoy's projects upon Montferrat. 



60 CROSS AND CROWN. 

The Vaudois were warmly in sympathy with their 
sovereign, and sent to him begging him to assist them 
in their resistance of the French ; but the duke did 
not send the desired succor, and they were forced to 
submit to the French, who treated them severely both 
as Piedmontese and as Protestants. Here again we see 
the hand of Rome making their sufferings greater. 
"The monk Bonaventure, already mentioned, went to 
the two parties alternately, saying to the Duke of 
Savoy, ( The Vaudois occupy strong positions in the 
mountains, and cannot surrender without disloyalty, 
but the Catholics dwelling in an open country, cannot 
resist an armed enemy, and must be excused in the 
event of their capitulating.' To the French, again, he 
said, c The Catholics will make haste to surrender, but 
the Vaudois are a rebellious race, who will resist you, 
and merit all severity.' " * 

The French brought with them a scourge more terri- 
ble than their army — the plague, which had made 
fearful ravages in France. This broke out in the Val- 
ley of Perouse, and swept rapidly over all the Vaudois 
settlements. Great numbers of the Vaudois fell vic- 
tims to it, and nearly all the pastors died. The Church 
was almost without leaders, and there was no time to 
train up others to supply the places of the dead. Pas- 
tors were wanted at once, and in this emergency the 
Vaudois were obliged to send to Geneva for new pas- 

* The Israel of the Alps. Vol. i. p. 312. 






THE VAUDOIS. qi 

tors, there being only three pastors engaged in active 
duty left in all the Protestant Yalleys. The plague 
swept off 10,250 Vaudois. 

In consequence of the introduction of the Genevese 
pastors, a gradual change took place in the outward 
form of the Yaudois Church, and it was not long before 
a modified Calvinistic system of government was adop- 
ted. The ancient catechism of the twelfth century was 
replaced by one of modern compilation; the pastors 
were no longer called Barbas; the ruling elder was 
styled a moderator, and the ministers were trained at 
Geneva instead of at Pra Del Tor, as formerly. It must 
not be supposed, however, that the Yaudois became Cal- 
vinists. They made no change in their faith, and did 
not in the slightest degree alter ilieir ancient ritual. 
The changes were entirely in the outward system of 
government, and in no way affected those things for 
which they had contended so long. 

The Jesuits, who had kept a close watch over the 
Yaudois, now endeavored to profit by the death of the 
pastors. They sought to introduce their priests into the 
Yalleys, and to convert the people to their doctrines • 
but in vain. In 1650 an organization was established 
in Turin, called the " Congregation for the Propagation 
of the Faith and for the Extirpation of Heretics." ( Con- 
gregatio de propaganda fide et extirpandis 7icereticis.) It 
was commonly known as The Propaganda* " To be 

* The Propaganda was established at Kome in 1650. In the other 
countries, to which it spread rapidly, it was known simply as " The 



62 CROSS AND CROWN. 

engaged in it was all that was necessary to obtain a 
plenary indulgence ; persons of great note enlisted them- 
selves, princes and artizans took their places together 
in its ranks ; there was no one who did not need indul- 
gences, or at least there was no one who had not some 
need of pardon. .... As there was a plenary indul- 
gence for the Propagandists, the women also desired to 
have their share. They formed a special council ; and 
thenceforth the Propaganda was composed of two coun- 
cils — one of men and another of women. The institu- 
tion was founded at Turin under the high favor of a 
royal ordinance. The Archbishop of that city, and the 
Marquis of St. Thomas, Minister of the Crown, were 
the presidents of the former of these councils. The 
Marchioness of Pianesse was president of the latter. 
She had spent her youth in dissipation, and sought to 
expiate her past faults by the extremeness of her new 
zeal. Being a woman of strong passions, and easily led 
away, but perhaps also of a noble and generous disposi- 
tion, it was no difficult matter for her spiritual direc- 
tors to impel her into a wrong course, which they could 
teach her to regard as that of duty. Mankind, in gen- 
eral, are more easily swayed by a command issued in 
the name of truth, than by proof of the truth. Herein 
lies the secret of the power of Popery. 

" ' These ladies,' says Leger, ' divide the towns into 

Congregation for the Propagation of the Faith." It was only in 
Piedmont that it added the words " and for the Extirpation of Here- 
tics." 



THE VAUD01S. 63 

districts, and each visits her district twice a week, sub- 
orning simple girls, female servants and children, by 
their cajoleries and fair promises ; and causing trouble 
and annoyance to those who do not choose to listen to 
them. They have their spies everywhere, who inform 
them of all Protestant families in which there is any 
domestic disagreement; and then they profit by the 
division to blow the fire of disagreement as much as 
possible, to separate the husljand from his wife, and the 
wife from her husband, the child from his father and 
mother, promising them, and in fact bestowing upon 
them, great advantages, if they engage to attend Mass. 
Frequently they impel them to institute law-suits 
against one another, and if once they have a hold of 
them by this handle, they never let them go until they 
have either recanted or are ruined. They know the 
merchant who is unprosperous in business, the gentle- 
man who has gambled away or squandered all that he 
had, and in general all families who fall into necessi- 
tous circumstances. And to seduce them with their 
daho tibi, these ladies never fail to propose apostasy to 
these persons when they are almost desperate. They 
make their way into the very prisons, and accomplish 
the release of criminals who give themselves up to 
them. And as they employ great sums of money in 
keeping all this machinery in motion, and paying those 
who sell their souls to them for bread, they make regu- 
lar collections, and do not fail to visit all families in 
good circumstances, shops, taverns, gambling houses, 



64 CR OSS AND CR WN. 

etc., demanding alms for the extirpation of Heresy. 
And if any person of condition arrives at an inn, they 
lose no time in paying their respects to him with an 
empty purse in their hands. To conclude, they meet 
in most of the towns twice a week, to compare accounts 
of what they have done, and to concert plans for what 
they are to do. If it so happen that they have need of 
the secular arm or of an order of Parliament, it is 
rarely that they do not succeed in obtaining it. The 
councils of the lesser towns give in reports to those of 
the metropolitan towns, the latter to the council of the 
Capital, and those of the capitals to that of Rome, 
where is the great spider that holds the threads of all 
this web.' " * 

It was all in vain, however. A few insignificant 
persons, who could well be spared by the Vaudois 
Church, apostatized; children were torn from their 
parents and shut up in convents ; but the Propaganda 
could show no convert worthy of its efforts. Baffled 
and enraged, the Propaganda resolved to have recourse 
to the old weapons of Rome — the sword, the torch, and 
the rack. It called in the Inquisition to its aid, and 
these two infernal powers made ready to exterminate 
the Vaudois since they could not convert them. 

The Duke of Savoy, Charles Emmanuel II., was not 
naturally a cruel man or a persecutor. When urged to 
be merciful to the Vaudois, he said he would willingly 
be more lenient to them, but " their adversaries will 

* The Israel of the Alps. Vol. i. pp. 331, 332. 



THE VAUDOIS. 65 

not leave me in peace without having obtained some 
satisfaction." The priests gave him no rest, and in 
1655 obtained from him an order commanding that all 
the inhabitants of the Vaudois towns in the lower Val- 
leys should either attend Mass or remove to the upper 
Valleys included in the communes of Bobi, Villar, 
Angrogna, and Rora. They were allowed three days 
to come to a decision. If they refused to become 
Koman Catholics they were given twenty days in which 
to sell their lands and other immovable possessions. 
The Roman Catholic worship was ordered to be cele- 
brated in every Protestant commune, and the penalty 
of death w r as denounced against any one who should 
endeavor to dissuade a Vaudois from becoming a Roman 
Catholic. 

The Vaudois at once began to comply with this 
order, and to prepare to remove to the mountains. It 
was a terrible winter. The snow lay thick over all the 
country, and rendered the roads along much of their 
course impassable. The swollen torrents had in many 
places inundated the country, and in others they were 
frozen into dangerous masses of ice. It seemed almost 
madness to undertake to reach the communes assigned 
the Vaudois by this terrible route. Yet no one hesi- 
tated. At the appointed time the Christians abandoned 
their homes and possessions in the lower Valleys, and 
set out for the mountains. It was a mournful proces- 
sion that went up the frozen heights — old men and 
women, little children and sick persons — leaving their 



QQ CROSS AND CROWN. 

comfortable nomes behind them, to face hardships and 
privations for Christ's sake. They waded through the 
icy waters, climbed the frozen peaks, and at length 
reached the homes of their impoverished brethren of the 
upper Valleys, where they were warmly welcomed. 
There were no apostates, however. Whole cities and 
villages in the lower Valleys were abandoned, fruitful 
sections were rendered desolate, people of wealth were 
reduced to the greatest poverty. Suffering and sorrow 
reigned over all the Vaudois country. Yet, away up 
in the high Valleys of the Alps, the Vaudois Church 
found refuge and rest. The truth was again triumph- 
ant. The Jesuits were again baffled. 

The Jesuits were enraged at their want of success, 
and caused the Duke of Savoy to be informed that the 
Vaudois, so far from obeying his orders to retire to the 
mountains, were preparing to resist him by force of 
arms. The duke at once sent a strong body of troops, 
under the Marquis of Pianesse, into the Valleys to 
compel obedience, and turned the Vaudois over to the 
Propaganda, to be dealt with as the priests should see 
fit. The priests were delighted, and at once set the 
army in motion. About the same time the Vaudois of 
several of the Valley towns burned the habitations of 
the monks in those places, who had driven them to 
madness. A priest was also assassinated at Fenil. 
These acts were at once seized upon by the Propa- 
ganda as pretexts for the cruelties upon which it had 
resolved. 



THE VAUDOIS. 67 

Meanwhile the army of the Marquis of Pianesse ad- 
vanced into the Valleys. It continued to move on 
toward the upper Valleys in which the Vaudois had 
taken refuge. Its progress was resisted ? and Pianesse 
was obliged to resort to treachery to gain his object. 
He proposed to the Vaudois of the upper Valleys to 
cease their resistance, assuring them that if they would 
consent to receive his troops among them, they should 
be respected in all their rights and possessions. He 
said he only wished to keep them out of the lower 
Valleys, that he had no right or wish to molest them in 
the upper Valleys. " You may render a service to your 
country and to me," he added, "by engaging your 
respective communes each to receive and to lodge only 
one of the regiments which have been sent hither. By 
thus receiving them without resistance, not only will 
the localities which shall receive them be secure from 
all violence, but it may be also that the prince, touched 
with this proof of confidence, will display less rigor in 
the exclusion pronounced against the towns of the 
plain." 

Leger and Janavel, the former the historian, and the 
latter one of the bravest leaders of the Vaudois, ener- 
getically but vainly opposed the design of the Eoman 
Catholic commander, in whom they had no faith. 
Their brethren, however, fell into the snare, and agreed 
to it. Pianesse that same evening put his troops in 
motion, seized all the mountain passes, and installed 
them in the hamlets. 



68 CROSS AND CROWN. 

The Marquis of Pianesse was the husband of the lady 
who has been mentioned as the president of the female 
council of the Propaganda. She had died some time 
before this, and on her death-bed had implored him to 
spare no efforts to exterminate the heretics. From this 
time he surrendered himself entirely to the will of the 
Jesuits. He had no orders from the Duke of Savoy for 
the barbarous and perfidious course upon which he now 
entered. The infamous proceeding was either his own 
device or that of the Jesuits. The history of that order 
warrants us in charging the responsibility for it upon 
them as well as upon him. In this responsibility the 
whole Church of Rome must share. It was the author 
of this Pledmontese Easter, as it was of the massacre 
of St. Bartholomew. 

Pianesse had resolved from the first upon the plan 
which he now proceeded to execute. His offers to the 
Vaudois had been designed simply to lull their suspi- 
cions and give him an opportunity to plant his troops 
in their midst. I give the remainder of the sad story 
as it is related by Muston : 

"In their eagerness to obtain possession of the 
strongest positions of our mountains, whilst two regi- 
ments pursued the ordinary route of Villar and Bobi, 
and a third that of Angrogna, a special detachment 
began to ascend the hills of Champ-la-Rama and of 
Coste Roussine, in order to arrive sooner at Pra Del 
Tor. This detachment, on its way, set fire to the scat- 
tered houses of Le Taillaret ; the smoke was seen, and 






THE VAUDOIS. 69 

the cries of the fugitives and shouts of the persecutors 
were heard from the colette of Rora, on which a fire was 
immediately kindled as a signal of distress. It was 
immediately perceived from all the heights of Angrogna, 
whither the greater part of the fugitives from the plain 
had retired, who had been compelled to quit Bubiano, 
Campillon, etc., in consequence of the edict of Gastaldo 
of 25th of February. The people of Angrogna them- 
selves, also, soon saw the rapid march of the invading 
detachment, which, directing its course towards the 
Pra Del Tor, triumphantly descended by the slope of 
the mountain. There soon appeared, besides, near the 
Gates of Angrogna and the Pausa del Morts, the regi- 
ment of Grancey, which alone had been expected. 
Then, perceiving the treachery, they kindled in turn 
their signal of distress, and the cries — c To Perouse ! to 
Perouse! to the Vachere ! Every one save himself! 
There are traitors! God help us! Let us fly-!' — were 
raised, and ran along, spreading like an electric flame 
over the vast flank of these mountains, from which the 
men in a condition to carry arms retired in haste to the 
heights of the Vachere, and thence by the Valley of 
Pramol to those of Perouse and Pragela, which then 
appertained to France. 

" On the side of Bobi the alarm was less prompt, for 
the regiments of Bagnola and Petitbourg (of which the 
former was to be quartered at Bobi, and the latter at 
Le Villar) arrived peaceably by the ordinary road. 
Apprehension was excited when the soldiers, instead of 



70 CROSS AND CROWN. 

remaining at Bobi, were seen to ascend to Sarcena and 
Vllle Neuve ; victims had already been slaughtered as 
they came, but the knowledge of these isolated murders 
could not be spread, and the officers everywhere mani- 
fested an intention to maintain a severe discipline 
amongst their troops. 

"Even at Angrogna, where they found only some 
women, old men, and children — feeble guardians of 
their deserted houses — they at first abstained from any- 
excess. De Pianesse contented himself with taking up 
his position there, and giving rest to his troops, without 
seeming to think of remaining in the place more than 
two or three days, according to the terms of his agree- 
ment with the deputies. Thus seeking to gain the 
confidence of the Yaudois women and children, these 
new-comers persuaded them to recall their husbands and 
brothers who had taken flight, protesting that no harm 
would be done to them. Some of them came back, to 
their cost. ' Non servanda fides JwereticisJ said the 
Council of Constance. c Ad extirpandos hwreticosf 
cried the Propaganda. 

" From the head of the valley downwards, in vil- 
lages and hamlets, on the highways and rocks, the 
Propaganda, by the help of the bad faith which its 
Church authorizes, had now introduced its soldiers, or 
posted its assassins. Accordingly the veil was raised. 
On Saturday, Easter Eve (24th April, 1655), at four 
o'clock in the morning, the signal for a general massacre 
of the Vaudois was given to these perfidious troops, 
from the summit of the Castle of La Tour. 



THE VAUDOIS. 71 

"The soldiers, apprized beforehand, had risen early; 
they were fresh and active ; they had slept under the 
roofs of those whose throats they were to cut. Those 
whom the Vaudois had received, lodged and fed with 
such confidence, who ought to have protected them, 
were now at the same moment throughout the whole 
Valley, and with the same fanaticism, transformed into 
base assassins. Rome carries off the palm for conver- 
sions of this kind. 

" And now, how can we give an idea of the horrors 
which ensued? It would be necessary to be able, with 
one glance, to include at once the whole country, to 
penetrate into all apartments, to be present at all exe- 
cutions, to distinguish in this vast voice of anguish and 
desolation, each particular cry of a heart or of a living 
being torn in pieces. Little children, Leger says, were 
torn from the arms of their mothers, dashed against the 
rocks, and cast carelessly away. The sick or the aged, 
both men and women, were either burned in their houses, 
or hacked in pieces; or mutilated, half-murdered and 
flayed alive, they were exposed in a dying state to the 
heat of the sun, or to flames, or to ferocious beasts; 
others were tied, in a state of nakedness, into the form 
of balls, the head between the legs, and in this state 
were rolled down the precipices. Some of them, torn 
and bruised by the rocks from which they had re- 
bounded, remained suspended from some projecting 
rock or the branch of some tree, and still groaned 
forty-eight hours afterwards. Women and young girls 



72 CROSS AND CROWN. 

were violated, empaled, set up naked upon pikes at the 
corners of the roads, buried alive, roasted upon lances, 
and cut in pieces by these soldiers of the faith, as by 
cannibals : then, after the massacre, the children which 
had survived it, and were found wandering in the 
woods, were carried away; or children were forcibly 
taken from what remained of their afflicted family, to 
be conveyed into the dwellings of these butchers, and 
into the monasteries, like lambs taken to the slaughter- 
house ; and, finally, the massacre and the removal of 
the children were succeeded by conflagration — the 
monks, the propagandists, and the zealous Catholics 
running from house to house with resinous torches, 
or incendiary projectiles, and ravaging in the midst of 
the fires, these villages now filled with corpses. ' 

" c Two of the most infuriated of these fire-raisers/ 
says a work of the period, c were a priest and a monk 
of the order of St. Francis, who marched about, escorted 
by troops ; and if there was any hidden cottage which 
had not fallen into their hands on the first occasion, 
they might be seen repassing on the morrow ; and to 
finish their work the priest had only to discharge his 
carbine, loaded with an artificial fire which stuck to 
the walls.' 

" Such was the frightful, unparalleled, unprecedented 
scene which was then presented in these regions of 
despair. 'And let it not be said,' adds the historian 
Leger, 'that I exaggerate things upon account of the 
persecutions which I myself personally have endured ; 



THE YAUDOIS. 73 

I have travelled from one neighborhood to another to 
collect the authentic testimonies of the survivors, who 
deponed what things they had seen before two notaries 
who accompanied me. In some places fathers had seen 
their children torn through the midst by the strength 
of men's arms, or cut through with swords ; in other 
places mothers had seen their daughters forced or mur- 
dered in their presence. Daughters had witnessed the 
mutilation of the living bodies of their fathers ; brothers % 
had seen the mouths of their brothers filled with pow- 
der, to which the persecutors set fire, making the head 
fly in pieces; pregnant women had been ripped up, 
and the fruit of their womb had been seen taken living 
from their bowels. What shall I say ? my God ! 
the pen falls from my hands. Dead bodies lay scat- 
tered about, or were planted upon stakes ; portions of 
children, torn in quarters, had been flung into the mid- 
dle of the road ; brains were plastered against the 
rocks ; trunks of human bodies were to be seen desti- 
tute of arms and limbs, or bodies half-flayed, or with 
the eyes torn out of the head, or the nails torn off the 
toes; others were fastened to trees with the chest 
opened, and without heart or lungs ; here might be 
seen bodies of women still more horribly mutilated; 
there graves scarcely filled up, where the earth seemed 
to' give forth the groans of the unhappy victims who 
had been buried alive ; everywhere misery, terror, deso- 
lation, and death. These are the things which I can 
tell ! ' 



74 CROSS AND CROWN. 

" The universal destruction of the Yaudois houses by 
fire followed the massacre of their inhabitants. In 
many hamlets, the witness of the martyrs proceeds, not 
one single cottage remained standing, so that the beauti- 
ful Valley of Lucerna then presented only the aspect 
of a burning furnace, where cries, which became more 
and more unfrequent, attested that a people had lived. 

"All these noble and courageous persons, thus put 
to death, might have saved their lives by abjuring 
their religion ; and the torments inflicted upon many 
of them were still prolonged in prison without making 
them yield. Ten years, twenty years afterwards, there 
were still in the galleys of the sovereign, galley slaves 
who were martyrs. In the dungeons of Villefranche 
and of Turin there were forgotten victims whose tor- 
tures, firmness and joyful death, Heaven alone could 
know." * 

The treachery and cruelty of the Marquis de Pianesse 
were warmly applauded by the priests, and especially 
by the Jesuits, but they found no other defenders. 
These men had deliberately planned this dreadful 
massacre, and it was but natural they should rejoice 
over it. Throughout all Europe, however, even in 
Catholic countries, the news was received with an 
outcry of horror and indignation. Cromwell, then at 
the head of the English Commonwealth, protested in 
most energetic terms against such cruelties, and the 
Protestant powers warmly interceded for justice to the 

* The Israel of the Alps. Vol. i. pp. 347-351. 



THE VADUOIS. 75 

Yaudois. The English ambassador, Sir Samuel Mor- 
land, boldly told the Duke of Savoy to his face that, 
" Were all the Neros of past and future times to view 
these fields of carnage and infamy, they would con- 
clude that they had never seen anything but what was 
good and humane in comparison with these things." The 
Duke of Savoy endeavored to disown the cruelties, and 
to throw the odium of them upon the French officers 
who had belonged to De Pianesse's army. A number 
of these, however, declared under oath that they had 
refused to take part in the brutalities, and had thrown 
up their commands rather than do so. The truth is, 
that the massacre was the work of the priests who had 
planned and brought it about. De Pianesse was their 
tool. 

Such of the Yaudois as managed to escape the massa- 
cre took refuge in the highest mountains, in caves and 
in the midst of ice and snow, and many passed into the 
French territory. Two of their leaders, Janavel and 
Jahier, collected each a strong body of followers, and 
opposed a stubborn resistance to the Catholic troops. 
The Duchess of Savoy endeavored to induce the French 
king to refuse shelter to the fugitives, and in spite of 
the efforts of Janavel and Jahier, it seemed that the 
Yaudois Church was on the eve of total destruc- 
tion. Louis XIY., however, showed kindness to the 
fugitives, and those who had taken up arms succeeded 
better than they had ventured to hope. The Protestant 
Powers of Europe renewed their intercessions, and in 



76 



CROSS AND CROWN. 



August, 1655, the Duke of Savoy was induced to put 
a stop to the war. A treaty with the Vaudois was 
signed at Pignerol in that month, by which they were 
allowed to return to their upper Valleys, and were 
granted some of their former privileges. Under the 
sanction of this treaty, the remnant of the Yaudois 
came back to their Valleys, and endeavored to restore 
them to something like their old-time prosperity. The 
treaty allowed Mass to be said in every valley, but the 
Protestants were not required to attend. 

For eight years there was a sort of peace in the Val- 
leys. The Vaudois exerted themselves to repair their 
misfortunes, and the Jesuits busied themselves with 
annoying and persecuting the poor people. Neither 
the Duke of Savoy nor the priests respected the treaty, 
and in 16 G3 they succeeded in driving the Vaudois 
again into resistance. Hostilities went on with inter- 
vals of peace until 1680, when the Savoyard ruler 
again consented to be merciful to the Vaudois. This 
farce was continued until 1685, in which year Louis 
XIV. revoked the Edict of Nantes, and threw himself 
into the arms of the Jesuits. He followed this revoca- 
tion by a barbarous persecution of the Protestants of 
France, and induced — we might say obliged — the Duke 
of Savoy to begin a fresh persecution of the Vaudois. 
The Protestant Powers, foreseeing the storm, addressed 
renewed representations to the Duke of Savoy. They 
could obtain nothing but an intimation that the Vau- 
dois would not be molested if they would consent to 



THE VAUDOIS. 77 

quit the country. This the mountaineers refused to 
do, though they were offered places of refuge in Pro- 
testant lands. They were devotedly attached to their 
homes, and they refused to abandon them until driven 
from them. They met together in solemn assembly, 
partook of the Sacrament of the Lord's Supper, and 
prepared to defend themselves. 

A strong force of Piedmontese and French soldiers, 
under General Catinat, one of the best commanders of 
his day, entered the Valleys. The Yaudois made a 
desperate resistance, but they were unsuccessful. Their 
heroic leader, Janavel, was no longer with them. He 
was wounded, and an exile in Switzerland, from which 
country he vainly sought to guide them with his 
advice. The Papal soldiers were everywhere success- 
ful. The Valleys were again laid waste. The most 
horrible cruelties — cruelties which fully equalled those 
already related, and which are not recorded in full here 
only because the repetition of such horrors is too pain- 
ful — marked this war. By the summer of 1686 the 
entire Vaudois population, with the exception of such 
as had been massacred, were prisoners in the hands of 
the Papal troops. Fourteen thousand Christians were 
thrown into the dungeons of Turin and the other Pied- 
montese towns. The Inquisition was kept busy. 
Fresh martyrs were added to the long list of the Vau- 
dois witnesses for the truth, and the priests were con- 
stantly occupied with devising and administering tor- 
tures to the captives. Disease broke out in the over- 



78 CROSS AND CROWN. 

crowded prisons, and large numbers perished miserably 
in this way. Out of the fifteen thousand Yaudois who 
occupied the Valleys at the beginning of the persecu- 
tion, twelve thousand fell victims to the malice and 
cruelty of Rome. When the prisons were thrown open, 
only three thousand of the captives came forth, sad, 
emaciated, and almost broken-hearted, but still true 
to their ancient faith. 

It was the winter of 1686-7 — a winter memorable 
for its extreme severity. The Rhone was frozen to its 
bed, and the Alps were almost impassable. The poor 
captives were collected in detachments, and, in spite of 
the rigor of the weather, driven across Mont Cenis into 
Switzerland. They were not even suffered to depart 
in peace, for, in many instances, their children were 
torn from them at the instigation of the Jesuits, and 
sent to the convents. They suffered terribly in cross- 
ing the mountains. All were insufficiently clothed, 
and some were half naked. All Geneva came out to 
meet them, — " these generous confessors of our Lord 
Jesus Christ," as an eye-witness of the scene styles the 
exiles, — the citizens received them tenderly, and con- 
tended with each other for the privilege of taking them 
to their homes. The exiles entered the town, escorted 
by the citizens, singing with a grave and sad voice the 
mournful psalm, " God, why hast Thou cast us off? " 

They were given such things as they needed, and 
found a pleasant and safe refuge in the beautiful and 
noble city which had itself done so much for the truth. 



THE VAUDOIS. 79 

They were invited by the Protestant States to settle 
amongst them. Some accepted these invitations, and 
passed into Holland, Germany, and England, but the 
majority still lingered at Geneva. 

In the Vaudois Valleys silence and desolation reigned. 
The villages were deserted, the farms and vineyards 
lay untilled, and the few cattle and sheep that were 
left wandered about without the herdsman's care. 
After a considerable interval a colony of Roman Catho- 
lics was sent to take possession of the lands. A host 
of priests came with them, and the Protestant churches 
were pulled down or converted into Romish chapels. 
The priests had their own way now in the Valleys, which 
had resisted them so long, and for the first time since 
the introduction of Christianity into Italy the Mass 
was said and the Virgin was worshipped in these upper 
nooks of the Alps. For three years the Catholics 
held undisputed possession of the territory they had 
won by such foul means. 

Meanwhile the Vaudois exiles had not forgotten 
their country. In the lands in which they had taken 
refuge they were safe from persecution, and were urged 
to settle themselves permanently ; but they could not 
abandon the hope of one day returning to their beloved 
Valleys. As the time passed on, this longing increased, 
and a number of them determined to make an effort to 
recover their homes at any cost. They sought and 
readily obtained the co-operation of their old leader, 
Captain Janavel. Janavel was too old and infirm to 



80 CROSS AND CROWN. 

accompany them, but lie entered into the plan with an 
enthusiasm which he communicated to his countrymen, 
and was thenceforward the guiding spirit of the whole 
movement, though the immediate execution of it was 
entrusted to their pastor Henry Arnaud. Their 
active preparations attracted the attention of the Swiss 
authorities, who managed to learn enough of their plans 
to be able to put the Duke of Savoy on his guard, and 
Swiss, French, and Piedmontese troops were posted 
along the route by which it was supposed they would 
attempt to return, for the purpose of intercepting them. 
It seemed impossible that they should be able to break 
through the strong force thus planted in their way ; but 
undismayed by this, and by the efforts of the Swiss 
authorities, who sought to compel them to desist from 
their attempt, they resolved to set out for their own 
country. The unconquerable spirit of Janavel seemed 
to have entered into each man, and it made a hero of 
him. 

On the night of the 16th of August, 1689, the Vau- 
dois who were to take part in the expedition embarked 
at the forest of Nyon, near Geneva, and crossed Lake 
Leman in a fleet of seventeen boats. On the morning 
of the 17th they landed at the Castle of Ivoire, on the 
border of Savoy. They were one thousand strong, and 
immediately after landing were organized into nineteen 
companies. As Arnaud did not possess sufficient 
knowledge of warfare, a Captain Turrel was chosen to 
direct the military movements. Janavel had furnished 



THE VAUDOIS. 81 

Arnaud with explicit instructions as to the best means 
of conducting the enterprise, and had accompanied 
the adventurers to the spot from which they began 
their march. As soon as they landed, they knelt in 
fervent prayer, and the aged warrior implored the 
assistance and protection of Almighty God in their 
effort to recover their homes. 

As the authorities were alarmed, and time- was pre- 
cious, they set off at once, marching rapidly in the 
direction of the Alps. In order to avoid the military 
forces which had been stationed along their route, Ihey 
left the most frequented roads, and ascending the 
streams to their sources, took the most difficult and 
dangerous paths that could be found. They crossed 
Mont Blanc through snow up to their knees, clambering 
from glacier to glacier, and moving along the edge of 
precipices where the footway was so narrow that a 
single false step would have resulted in the adventurer 
being dashed into the abyss below. They overcame the 
resistance of the towns along their way by threatening 
to destroy them entirely if they were compelled to force 
a passage, and by paying for such supplies as they 
demanded, where a free passage was accorded them. 
Where hostile garrisons were encountered, sudden sur- 
prises and attacks were resorted to, and thus the road 
was cleared. They suffered severely from fatigue and 
the cold, but pressed on without halting longer than 
was necessary to obtain rest and sleep. They managed 
to procure scanty supplies of food from the peasants on 



82 CROSS AND CROWN. 

the way, some of which was given to them, and some 
of which they bought. 

On the seventh day of their march, August 24, 1689, 
they reached the summit of Mont Cenis, and here cap- 
tured the mules and baggage of Cardinal Angelo 
Banuzzi, who was on his way to Rome. " What the 
Vaudois suffered in passing the Great and the Little Mont 
Cenis," says Arnaud, "surpasses imagination. The 
ground was covered with snow ; they had to descend 
the mountain of Tourliers rather by a precipice than by 
a road ; and, to complete their misery, night having 
surprised them, numbers of them remained scattered on 
the mountain, overcome with fatigue and sleep." In 
this extremity they were almost disheartened. The 
Piedmontese soldiers of the garrison of Exilles harassed 
them greatly by rolling down stones upon them, and 
flinging hand-grenades into their midst as they climbed 
the mountain side. Nevertheless they pressed on, con- 
soling themselves, says Arnaud, " with the thought that 
it is not by might, nor by skill, nor by number of men 
that God executes His marvellous designs ; and so, call- 
ing upon His name, they resumed their march." At 
last they stood upon the summit of the mountain of 
Tourliers, and sounding their clarions to gather those 
who had fallen behind and those who had strayed from 
the line of march, they prepared to descend to encoun- 
ter the troops who held the Valleys below. 

They were now almost in sight of their homes. They 
were eight hundred strong, having lost the rest of their 



THE VAUDOIS. 83 

number by capture, death in battle, and the fatigues of 
the march. Their route now lay through the wildest 
and most inaccessible portions of the Alps, along the 
most frightful precipices, through dangerous snows, and 
half-frozen mountain streams. At night they bivou- 
acked amid the ice and snow, and their food consisted 
of only chestnuts and water. Every morning and eve- 
ning they gathered around their heroic pastor, Henry 
Arnaud, and engaged in fervent prayer, and thus 
refreshed, they went onward. 

As they approached the Valley of the Dora, the peas- 
ants met them with reports of heavy forces of troops 
through which they must cut their way, and mocked 
them with the hopelessness of their effort. In the 
vicinity of the town of Salabertrans their requests for 
food were met with the reply that they would not need 
food if they attempted to enter that place. It was 
night as they approached the town. The Dora is here 
crossed by a single bridge, over which they must pass 
to reach their mountains. This bridge was held by a 
column of 2000 French troops, whose bivouac fires they 
soon perceived. It was necessary to force a passage 
through this detachment, for there was no retreat for 
the adventurers. They at once made their prepara- 
tions for the attack, and then, falling on their knees, 
offered a fervent prayer to God, " asking not life, but 
victory." The French made a gallant, but vain resist- 
ance. The impetuosity of the Vaudois was irresistible, 
and after two hours sharp fighting they carried the 



84 CROSS AND CROWN. 

bridge, and put the French to flight, inflicting upon 
them a loss of 700 men. Their own loss was but 
twenty-two. As the moon rose over the valley, the 
Yaudois gathered such of the munitions and arms of 
their enemies as they could not carry with them into a 
pile and set fire to them. A terrible explosion shook 
the valley, and was answered by the triumphant shout 
of the victors, " Glory to the God of armies, who has 
delivered us from the hands of our enemies." 

" Ordinary courage," says Muston, " would now have 
demanded some repose, for the Yaudois had marched 
on unintermittingly for three days and three nights 
without proper sleep, and almost without food, sleeping 
only for a few hours at a time, and having for nourish- 
ment nothing but bread and water. But in the appre- 
hension that new troops might come upon them and 
take them in the rear, they resolved to set out again 
at once. The mountain which remained to be crossed 
separates the Yalley of the Dora from that of Pragela. 
The moon was up ; the way was free from danger ; 
but human strength is not unlimited, and some soldier 
was continually falling at the foot of a tree, overcome 
with fatigue and sleep. The rear guard had much 
difficulty in awakening them again; and, after all, 
there remained some of them who were forgotten, and 
who were never seen more." 

When the sun rose the next morning, August 25th, 
1689, the exiles assembled on the summit of the moun- 
tain. Behind them they could see the mountains over 



THE VAUDOIS. 85 

which they had passed ; at their feet lay spread out 
the highest part of the Valley of Pragela, and in the 
far distance they could see the radiant peaks of the 
Alps that shut in their native Valleys. Animated by 
the sight, they burst into a psalm of triumph, and the 
pastor, Arnaud, calling them to their knees, uttered 
this prayer of thanksgiving : u Lord, my God, Thou 
who didst bring back the sons of Jacob from the land 
of bondage to that of their ancestors, God of Israel, 
God of our fathers ! be pleased to accomplish and to 
bl'ess Thy Work in us, Thy feeble servants. May the 
light of the Gospel never be extinguished in these 
mountains, where it has so long shined ; and grant that 
our hands may rekindle it and maintain it there. And to 
Thee alone, heavenly Father, with Jesus Thine only 
Son, our Saviour, and the Holy Ghost, our Comforter, 
be honor, praise, and glory, now and forever. Amen ! " 
Meanwhile, the news of the approach of the Vaudois 
spread terror through the Valley of Pragela. The 
Roman Catholic priests, remembering the cause they 
had given the adventurers for revenge, abandoned their 
parishes and fled as the Vaudois descended into the 
Valley. The latter, however, stayed not for vengeance, 
but pressed on, and that night encamped at the foot of 
the Col du Pis, in the village of Jossand. The next 
morning they continued their march, and halting for a 
time at the Alpage of Le Pis, descended the mountain 
into the Valley of San Martino that night by the light 
of torches. 



86 CROSS AND CROWN. 

On Tuesday, 27th of August, they reached the Bal- 
sille, the post which Janavel had directed them to make 
their stronghold. They took a number of prisoners 
here, and hid the arms thus captured among the rocks. 
On the 28th they went to Pral, where they celebrated 
divine worship — the first gathering for such a purpose 
since the expulsion of the Yaudois. 

The exiles now set themselves to work to clear their 
Valleys of the Catholics who had- settled in them since 
the expulsion of the rightful owners, and for a while all 
was favorable to them. They were everywhere victo- 
rious. With the hope of starving them into submission, 
the Duke of Savoy ordered the country to be desolated. 
In compliance with this command, the flocks and cattle 
were driven out of the upper Valleys, the harvests were 
burned in the fields, and the splendid groves of chestnut 
and walnut trees were destroyed. The duke also sent 
a strong military force against them. The adventurers 
lived on nuts, herbs, and roots, and upon the secret 
stores of corn and other provisions which they had 
buried in the earth previous to their expulsion. Still 
they were reduced to great hardships, and it was only 
by sustaining themselves by constant prayer that they 
managed to exist at all. They did hold out, however, 
for two months against a force of twenty thousand well 
equipped and plentifully supplied troops under Catinat. 
By the middle of October they were reduced to such 
straits that it seemed their undertaking must fail. To 
add to their troubles, Turrel, their commander, deserted 



THE VAUDOIS. 87 

them, and sought safety in flight. The winter was 
coming on, and it seemed impossible for them to exist 
until the spring. It was a period of great darkness and 
sore trial to the Alpine Church, and it seemed that the 
pure Christian faith was about to disappear forever 
from the scene where it had so long existed. In this 
hour of calamity, Henry Arnaud, the pastor of the little 
Church, and since Turrel's desertion, its military leader, 
was its chief support. He was resolved never to leave 
the Valleys alive, and by his prayers and counsels he 
encouraged his followers to stand by him. When 
everything seemed lost he remembered the advice of 
Janavel, who had instructed him, when it came to the 
worst, to take refuge on the Balsille, and there hold out 
until help should come from on high. He communi- 
cated this advice to his followers, and they unanimously 
approved it. 

The Balsille is a rugged and imposing mountain, or 
mass of rocks, which rises at the upper end of the 
Valley of San Martino. " It consists," says Dr. William 
Beattie, "of a conical mass of rocks, resting at the 
angle where two valleys unite — namely, that of the 
Germanasca, terminating in the Col du Pis; and 
another, traversed by a torrent which descends from 
Mount Guinevert. Thus situated, it is difficult of 
access from all but one point, which is just above the 
small village of Balsille. The approach from this 
village is very steep, and when protected by strong 
barricades must have presented difficulties of the most 



88 CROSS AND CROWN. 

formidable character." At the foot of this lofty peak a 
branch of the Germanasca dashes in a sharp curve, 
making of the mountain a sort of promontory. The 
Balsille is isolated from the* other heights, but on either 
hand it is commanded by the nearly inaccessible peaks 
of Le Pis and Guinevert. Thus situated, it is well 
nigh impregnable, but it affords nothing but shelter to 
those taking refuge on it. Only a few stunted shrubs 
cover its summit, and the earth yields scarcely any 
vegetation. The weather is severe here at all seasons ; 
and the winter is very trying. 

The Yaudois were at Eodoret when they came to the 
determination to take refuge on the Balsille. It was 
the 22d of October, and no time was to be lost. Their 
enemies held every known road leading to the Valley 
of San Martino, but there was a dangerous path along 
the very summit of the mountains by which they could 
pass to the Balsille without descending to the Valley 
below. It was a terrible route, but the only one open 
to them, and they could only traverse it at night. 
They spent the greater part of the night in prayer, and 
two hours before day set out in the deep darkness for 
their place of safety. It was so dark that they were 
obliged to fasten strips of white cloth upon the shoul- 
ders of the guides in order to distinguish them, and 
some of the guides fastened to their backs pieces of 
phosphoric wood. Several times they were obliged to 
crawl along the sides of the precipices on their hands 
and knees. They all passed over the mountain in 



TEE VAUDOIS. 89 

safety, however, and reached the top of the Balsille 
without once encountering the enemy. The next day 
they had no food, for they found in their new refuge 
nothing but a stern mass of rocks. A foraging party was 
sent out into the neighborhood and succeeded in secur- 
ing a few vegetables. They found an old mill close 
by, which they repaired sufficiently to enable them to 
grind corn enough to make bread. About the same 
time they discovered that the last year's harvest had 
not been gathered in the Valley of Pral, and that it lay 
beneath the snow. Daring the winter they reaped this, 
after first clearing away the ice and snow which 
covered it. 

Immediately upon reaching the Balsille they set to 
work to fortify it. They were greatly exhausted by 
their hard service since their departure from Switzer- 
land, but they performed now an amount of bodily 
labor which seems almost incredible. They threw up 
seven large intrenchments, one above another, on the 
side of the mountain, building them of trees, rocks, and 
earth. They established communications between these 
barriers, and between them and the summit of the 
mountain, by means of deep trenches and covered ways. 
They also constructed a species of " bomb-proofs," in 
which they could take shelter from the artillery fire of 
their adversaries. On the top of the mountain they 
built a strong fort, which they surrounded with a triple 
wall. For their own comfort and protection against the 
weather, they dug eighty chambers or caves in the 
mountain side. 



90 CROSS AND GROWN. 

The Catholic commander was greatly surprised at 
the escape of the Vaudois from Rodoret, and for a time 
could not tell where they had gone ; but at length news 
reached him of their presence on the Balsille, and he 
put his army in motion for that place, arriving before it 
on the 29th of October. The enemy made a desperate 
attempt to carry the position, but were driven off with 
heavy loss by the Vaudois marksmen, and before they 
could renew their attempt the winter came upon them. 
The troops suffered so severely from their exposure to 
the rigor of an Alpine winter that they were obliged to 
abandon their advanced positions and take refuge in 
the lower Valleys. 

The winter was passed by the Vaudois Church on its 
lonely rock. The heroes were sustained in the midst 
of their trials and dangers by their constant and unmo- 
lested religious exercises. The ancient ritual of the 
Vaudois was used on every occasion. Henry Arnaud 
preached twice on every Sabbath, and each morning and 
evening led his followers in prayer. The garrison now 
numbered only about four hundred, but all were natives 
of the country, and devotedly attached to it and to their 
religion. They sent out frequent expeditions into the 
Valleys, often going as far as Lucerna and Angrogna, 
and harassed the Catholic settlers and brought in sup- 
plies for the fortress. They constantly looked for aid 
from their friends in Switzerland, but none came. 
Expeditions were once or twice formed to go to their 
relief, but they were intercepted by the enemy. No- 



THE VAUDOIS. 91 

thing remained for the Christian soldiers, but to be 
ready to resist unaided the combined armies of France 
and Savoy when the spring should return, and they 
did not shrink from the prospect. 

Hostilities began again in April, 1690. The Mar- 
quis de Pareilles, one of the commanders of the forces 
sent against the Vaudois, offered them liberal terms if 
they would surrender. Arnaud called a meeting of his 
followers, and laid the offer before them. It was unani- 
mously decided to refuse it. " Certainly," wrote Ar- 
naud, in answer to the marquis, "your Excellence 
ought not to think it strange if our people are bent 

upon returning to their own homes The very 

birds, which are creatures destitute of reason, return at 
their proper times, to seek their nest and habitation 
unforbidden ; and yet this is to be forbidden to men 
created in the image of God." He also wrote to the 
marquis a defence of his countrymen, setting forth the 
persecutions they had endured, and vindicating their 
right to their Valleys. He declared they had submitted 
to every burden laid upon them, and had only taken up 
arms in self-defence. 

On Sunday, April 30th, 1690, while Arnaud was 
preaching to his men, the French and Piedmontese 
army, under Catinat, was seen approaching the Bal- 
sille. Catinat now seized the commanding peaks of 
Le Pis and Guinevert, and after the most persistent 
efforts, in which his men displayed an endurance and 
resolution worthy of the Vaudois themselves, succeeded 



92 CROSS AND CROWN. 

in establishing a strong infantry force on each moun- 
tain. From these peaks the soldiers opened a distant 
and ineffectual fire upon the fort. At the same time 
the French commander sent a column of five hundred 
picked men under Colonel de Parat, to storm the Vau- 
dois intrenchments from the direction of the village of 
the Balsille. The French ascended the rugged slope 
of the mountain in the face of a sharp fire, and made 
the attack with great gallantry and vigor. They 
sought in vain to tear away the ramparts of the Vau- 
dois, and thus open a passage to the fort, but they were 
met by a storm of 'bullets and a shower of huge stones 
rolled down upon them, which broke them and hurled 
them in confusion to the base of the mountain. The 
commander of the storming party was wounded and 
made prisoner, and the attack was an utter failure on 
the part of the French. Thus closed the 2d of May. 

General de Catinat, overwhelmed with mortification 
at the failure of his effort against the Balsille, relin- 
quished the immediate command of the army to the 
Marquis de Feuquieres, and retired to Les Clos, " as he 
did not think proper to expose his hope of the baton of 
a Marshal of France to the risk of a second defeat by 
the unexpected valor of a handful of mountaineers." 

The new commander resolved to try the effect of 
artillery upon the works on the Balsille, and by almost 
superhuman efforts succeeded in planting a battery of 
twelve pound guns on the summit of Guinevert, and 
by the 13th of May was ready to open fire on the Vau- 



THE VAUDOIS. 93 

dois, twelve days having been spent by this powerful 
army in its preparations for reducing a fort held by but 
four hundred men. The French Commander could not 
but feel an involuntary respect for those who had ren- 
dered themselves so formidable, and he sent them an- 
other offer of honorable capitulation, promising them 
500 louis per man, and safe conducts to any foreign 
country they might wish to retire to. This offer was 
also rejected, and that night the Yaudois made a vigor- 
ous sortie, in which they inflicted severe damage upon 
the besiegers. 

Early the next morning, May 14th, the French 
artillery opened fire on the Balsille. The Yaudois 
intrenchments, strong as they were against an infantry 
attack, were not capable of withstanding such a test, and 
crumbled away rapidly before the accurate discharges 
of the enemy's battery. By midday the bastions were 
almost in ruins. The French then made a determined 
effort to carry by storm the works thus weakened. 
Three strong columns of infantry ascended the moun- 
tain from as many different directions, in spite of the 
constant fire and the fall of heavy stones with which 
the Yaudois met them. The defenders were gradually 
beaten back from the outer works, and though they 
prolonged the resistance until nightfall, were eventually 
driven within the citadel or fort on the top of the moun- 
tain. The French now feeling sure that their victims 
could not escape, proceeded to surround the fort, and 
postponed the final attack until the morning. 



94 CROSS AND CROWN. 

" The Vaudois, seeing themselves so closely beset, 
considered that the hand of God alone could save them 
from that of their adversaries. They invoked His aid, 
continued their resistance till night ; and then profit- 
ing by the mists, which on rainy days arise towards 
evening from the deep glens, when these protecting 
veils began to enfold the heights, they issued from 
their retreat, and, under the guidance of Captain Pou- 
lat, who was a native of these mountains — under the 
invisible but real protection of the Almighty — envel- 
oped in these dark and humid clouds, by the confused 
and distant light of the enemy's fires, on icy or moist 
slopes of almost perpendicular rocks, over which they 
were compelled to pass, they held their way, one after 
another, in single file across the gaping crevasses above 
the deep chasms of the Germanasque, dragging them- 
selves along on their bellies, clinging to the asperities 
of the mountain, or to bushes or roots hanging from 
the rocks, resting from time to time, continually pray-* 
ing to God, and never yielding to despair. After all 
this, they digged steps in the hardened snow to climb 
by, and gained the northern slope of Mount Guinevert, 
where they turned the posts of the enemy, some of 
whom challenged them as they passed ; and then pant- 
ing, exhausted, half-dead with fatigue, but blessing the 
Lord for so miraculous a deliverance, they arrived at 
the base of the glaciers of Le Pelvoux. 

" At sunrise next day they appeared to the aston- 
ished eyes of the enemy, like eagles that had flown 



THE VAUDOIS. 95 

from their eyry, on mountain tops much higher than 
the Balsille, and than all the posts occupied by the 
assailing army. The Marquis de Feuquieres made 
haste to send a detachment after them, but it was too 
late ; when this detachment moved the fugitives were 
at La Salse, above Macel ; when it was at La Salse they 
were at Rodoret ; when the enemy were at Eodoret the 
indefatigable Vaudois were on the mountain of Galmon, 
which commands the whole Valley of Pral ; and thus 
fleeing from peak to peak, keeping always at a distance 
from the enemy, and still increasing the distance by 
their superiority in strength, courage, and perfect 
knowledge of the localities, the glorious fugitives 
arrived above Servins, where they paused for prayer. 
Arnaud pronounced, with a loud voice, the words of 
supplication and thanksgiving, but his troop was dying 
of fatigue and hunger. Then these rude children of 
the Vaudois mountains put snow into their mouths to 
refresh themselves, and chewed green shoots of fir trees 
to support their strength; after which they pursued 
their march, mounted the heights of Pral, where the 
talc is now obtained, and arrived towards evening at 
the summit of the Roccabianca, one of the spurs of the 
Cornaout — the culminating point of the mountains 
which separate the Valley of Lucerna from that of St. 
Martin. From thence they descended to Faet, where 
they did not arrive till after midnight, having made 
their way down dangerous precipices, clinging to small 
shrubs^ and aiding one another by joined hands. 



96 CROSS AND CROWN. 

" Notwithstanding the extraordinary fatigues of this 
day of superhuman marches, the Yaudois set out again 
before dawn on Saturday, the 17th of May, to pass 
over the mountain which now separated them from 
Rioclaret. Their object was to pass by the heights of 
Angrogna to the celebrated retreat of their ancestors, 
the Pra Del Tor, which is as deeply sunk among the 
mountains as the Balsiye, which they had quitted, is ele- 
vated above the Valley. But they soon perceived that 
the enemy followed in their track ; therefore, changing 
the direction of their route, they proceeded towards 
Pramol, in order to get some provisions." * The Valley 
of Pramol was peopled by the Roman Catholic settlers, 
whom the Duke of Savoy had sent there after the 
expulsion of the Vaudois. The village of Pramol was 
held by a small Piedmontese garrison. The fugitives 
at once attacked this force, defeated it, killed fifty-seven 
of the men, and took the commander and three of the 
officers prisoners. 

This fight occurred on the 17th of May, and on the 
same day the Vaudois, who had been in ignorance of 
what had been transpiring in the world around them 
during the winter, learned from their captives that 
Spain, Austria, and England had declared war against 
France, and that the Duke of Savoy had been given 
until the 20th of May to decide between the allies and 
France. Greatly encouraged by this news, they pushed 
on to Angrogna, where, the next day, they learned that 

* The Israel of the Alps. Vol. ii. pp. 71, 72. 



THE VAUDOIS. 97 

Victor Amadeus had decided in favor of the allies, and 
that he was willing to grant peace and protection to the 
Vaudois if they would join his standard in the approach- 
ing war. This they gladly promised to do, for they had 
never been disloyal to their sovereign. The French 
were in the Valleys, however, and pressed them to join 
their ranks ; but they not only rejected these overtures, 
but maintained a constant warfare against the French, 
winning many successes, until the middle of June, when 
the invaders abandoned the Valleys for operations else- 
where. During this time the Vaudois suffered many 
hardships and privations, and encountered many dan- 
gers.. Throughout the war, however, they continued 
faithful to their sovereign, and rendered good service to 
him. In July, 1696, Savoy withdrew from the league 
against France, and made a private peace with that 
power. 

Janavel had told his brethren to wait for aid from on 
high, and it had come. Victor Amadeus, in order to 
attach the Vaudois more firmly to his cause, permitted 
them to return to their old homes, and in May, 1694, 
issued a decree re-establishing them in their Valleys, 
and granting them toleration in religion. In conse- 
quence of this decree they came back joyfully from the 
distant lands in which they had taken refuge, from 
Switzerland, Germany, Holland, and England. San 
Martino, Perouse, and Lucerna again welcomed their 
rightful owners. The Apostolic Church of the moun- 
tains was once more set up in its ancient seat^ this time 



98 CROSS AND CROWN. 

never to be removed again. The heroic men under 
Arnaud had brought about all this. But for their 
efforts the exile of the Vaudois would have been per- 
petual. Their heroism and devotion had changed the 
lot of their Church at the very moment when its pros- 
pects seemed darkest. Well might the Yaudois call 
their readmission to their homes The Glorious Return. 
They were joined on their arrival by a number of their 
brethren who had embraced Catholicism in 1686. Out 
of 424 such families 421 now returned to their ancient 
faith, the Duke of Savoy having given them leave to 
do so. 

As a matter of course, the return of the Vaudois and 
the privileges granted to them, gave great offence to the 
Pope and the Jesuits. The Pontiff at once protested 
against the decree of the duke, and on the 19 th of Au- 
gust, 1694, the tribunal of the Inquisition, presided 
over by Innocent XII. in person, issued a decree annul- 
ling the edict of the Duke of Savoy. This remarkable 
document concluded as follows : " Wherefore his holi- 
ness, in his zeal for the house of God, and according to 
the duty of the pastoral charge which has been en- 
trusted to him from on high, .... has cassed, annulled, 
invalidated, and condemned the above cited edict and 
all that it contains as being monstrous, impious, detes- 
table, .... ordaining that this edict .... shall be 
reputed as never having been framed nor issued, .... 
and enjoining all archbishops, bishops, inquisitors, etc., 
to act as hitherto against the heretics, without regard 



THE VAUDOIS. 99 

to this deed, .... which is declared to be abrogated 
in virtue of the present decree." . ci 

The Duke of Savoy, seeing that the independence of 
his crown was at stake, at once caused the Piedmontese 
Senate to pass a law (2d September, 1694) prohibiting, 
under penalty of death, the publication or execution of 
the decree of the Inquisition within the dominions of 
Savoy. The same law confirmed all the privileges 
granted to the Yaudois. The duke also caused his 
ambassador to inform the Pope of what he had done, 
and to assure him that no sovereign in Europe would 
any longer suffer such abuse of power on the part of 
the Holy See. Spain and Austria both sustained the 
duke, and made similar protests. The Pope became 
alarmed, and seeing that he had gone too far, ordered 
his Nuncio not to publish the decree of the Inquisition 
at Turin. 

Yet, notwithstanding all this, Yictor Amadeus did 
not hesitate, a little later, to violate the faith he had 
pledged to the Yaudois, and to become once more their 
persecutor. Meanwhile he suffered them to re-establish 
themselves in their Yalleys, and admitted their troops 
into his army. The Yaudois were not slow to bring 
back by their labors some degree of their former pros- 
perity, and to re-establish their Church in its ancient 
home. They increased in numbers rapidly, and were 
greatly assisted by contributions of money from England 
and other countries. 

The priests watched this growth with a jealous eye, 



100 CROSS AND CROWN. 

and as far as they dared, maintained a policy of con- 
stant infringement of the edict of the Duke of Savoy. 
They annoyed the Yaudois in every conceivable way, 
and zealously exerted themselves to win over the duke 
from his liberal policy to their own cruel programme. 
In the end they were successful. Four years after the 
edict of toleration and protection, and two years after 
the peace, the priests made a conquest of the duke. In 
the spring of 1698 a Jesuit, attended by a number of 
monks, visited in succession all the Valleys of the 
Yaudois. His observations were summed up in a 
report addressed to the Pope, who upon its receipt 
despatched the Marquis de Spada to Turin, where he 
had a conference with the Papal Nuncio. Louis XIY. 
was at this time engaged in persecuting the French 
Protestants of Dauphiny, many of whom had taken 
refuge in the Yaudois Valleys. By the treaty of peace 
with France, Victor Amadeus had consented to expel 
the French Protestants from the Vaudois Valleys, and 
not to allow any of them to settle in his dominions. 
By the same treaty he had promised " not to permit 
the pretended Reformed religion in the territories 
which have been ceded to him." These territories 
were the Valleys of Perouse and Pragela, in which the 
duke had pledged himself by the edict of May 23, 
1694, to allow religious freedom u for ten years after 
the termination of the war." The Jesuits were the 
true authors of this article of the treaty, and were 
determined that it should be but the beginning of a 



THE VAUDOIS. 101 

new crusade against the Vaudois. Soon after the visit 
of the Pope's emissary to Turin, the Duke of Savoy 
issued, July 1st, 1698, an edict expelling all the 
French Protestants from his dominions, and forbidding 
the Yaudois from holding any communication on mat- 
ters of religion with the subjects of the King of France. 
The greater part of the French Protestants who had 
sought shelter in the Valleys, were connected with the 
Vaudois either by blood, by marriage, or by common 
interest, and the blow was regarded, as indeed it was 
meant, as aimed at the whole Church. In consequence 
of this cruel decree, above 3000 persons left their 
homes in the Valleys, and wandered into foreign lands. 
The decree expelled all who were not natives of the 
Valleys. The Church at this time numbered thirteen 
pastors. Seven of these were of foreign birth, and 
were obliged to quit their charges. 

We have seen how lightly Victor Amadeus held the 
pledges he had made in favor of the Vaudois. The 
priests were urgent that he should disregard them 
entirely; but though they could never bring him to 
consent to the utter extermination of the Vaudois, 
they met with no opposition from him in their efforts 
to harass and destroy them. He permitted, if he did 
not cause, various disabilities to be laid upon them, and 
converted them into a proscribed and cruelly perse- 
cuted class once more. They were forbidden to prac- 
tise certain avocations, to hold property beyond certain 
limits, or to settle out of their Valleys for any purpose 



102 CROSS AND CROWN. 

whatsoever. They were obliged to stand by and see 
their children seized and carried off to Turin by the 
priests to be educated in the Romish faith, and if they 
dared to offer any resistance to these cruel measures, 
they were condemned to a severe punishment. Under 
Victor Amadeus II. and III., their condition was no 
better. " This state of distress continued for many 
years. The Vaudois Church, nevertheless, seemed to 
acquire strength. The inhabitants of these regions 
regarded them with friendship. Not a few of the 
magistrates, appointed to govern them, even proved 
their protectors. . . . These severe measures were fol- 
lowed by proceedings still more vexatious ; even crimi- 
nal attempts remained unpunished — cruelties were from 
time to time openly perpetrated, or being shrouded in 
mystery, inspired the greater alarm. The protection 
of foreign powers did no more than repair these inju- 
ries—it did not prevent them. Distrust everywhere 
prevailed; the complaints of the Yaudois were no 
longer listened to." On the 20th of June, 1730, even 
more stringent measures were put in force against 
them. At this time all the Protestants of foreign 
birth were expelled a second time from their Valleys, 
and, with a few exceptions, all the Protestant natives 
of Pragela were likewise expelled. All through the 
eighteenth century the priests maintained their bitter 
warfare upon the Vaudois, who were even prohibited 
from holding family worship in their own dwellings. 
There was good reason for all this hostility. Pro- 



THE VAUDOIS. 103 

testantism had become a power in the world. The 
hold of Rome upon the minds and consciences of the 
most enlightened nations of Europe had been effectu- 
ally shaken off. In those countries which still remained 
faithful to the Pope, the tyranny and cruelty of Rome 
had driven so many men from the Church that infi- 
delity and immorality were frightfully common. In 
France Rome had succeeded in making a Rousseau 
and the Encyclopaedists possible, and had paved the way 
for the great outburst of popular fury which was soon 
to take place. The little mountain Church still re- 
mained a living reproach to her, and a faithful witness 
of Apostolic truth. Small and feeble, persecuted and 
trampled upon though it was, its moral influence 
throughout Europe was tremendous. Protestant pow- 
ers were pleading for it with the Sardinian King, Pro- 
testant gold was being sent to sustain it in its adver- 
sity. It was more than a reproach to Rome. It was 
a living proof that the Papacy could not destroy the 
true ChiTrch, therefore, Rome both feared and hated it. 
The French Revolution was followed by war between- 
Piedmont and France. The Duke of Savoy, now known 
as the King of Sardinia, at once called on the Yaudois 
to rally to his standard, and committed to them the 
defence of their own frontier. In spite of the perse- 
cutions they had endured at his hands, they responded 
promptly to the king's command, and were soon at the 
post of danger. Of course, they were thus obliged to 
leave their families in their villages, while they en- 
camped on the ridge of the Alps to oppose the enemy. 



104 CROSS AND CROWN. 

There "remained in the Valleys below only the 
women, the children, the aged, and the infirm — c feeble 
defenders/ says M. Monastier. Catholic fanaticism 
conceived the idea of a new St. Bartholomew's Day 
against these Protestant families, thus deprived of their 
natural protectors, who were occupied in the defence of 
their country. The execution of this plot was to have 
taken place in the night between the 14th and 15th of 
May, 1793. The list of the conspirators contained more 
than 700 names. A column of assassins, assembled at 
Lucerna, was on a signal given to spread itself over the 
communes of St. John and La Tour, consuming all with 
tire and sword. The house of the priest of La Tour, his 
church, the Convent of the Recollets, and the houses of 
a few Catholics of the place, were filled with murderous 
villains, ready alike for pillage or for massacre. 

" But there were also some generous Catholics, who 
refused to tak^ part in this odious wickedness. These 
worthy men were better than Catholicism. Don Bri- 
anza, priest of Lucerna, not only refused to join the con- 
spirators, but he hastened also to make this conspiracy 
known to those whose existence was menaced. Cap- 
tain Odetti, of Cavour, likewise ran to warn the Vau- 
dois, and to defend the friends he had among them. 

" An urgent message was immediately sent to Gene- 
ral Gaudin, asking him to bring down his troops from 
the mountains, or at least to permit the Vaudois legion 
to go and preserve their own homes from invading 
assassins. The brave general, unable to believe in such 



TEE VAUDOIS. 105 

perfidy and cruelty, attached no importance to the 
revelation which was made to him. A new messenger 
was despatched to him without more effect. A third 
arrived and presented the list of the conspirators. The 
general could not believe in it. Moreover, he had his 
orders; he could not abandon his post, nor consent to 
the withdrawal of a part of his troops ; and this third 
emissary also returned without any success. Seventeen 
persons went to him in succession. Time pressed ; the 
alarm was given; the Vaudois troops, boiling with 
indignation, were all impatience to run to the succor 
of their families. At last the magistrates of La Tour 
and Le Villar themselves came to assure General Gau- 
din of the reality of this atrocious conspiracy, and to 
entreat for protection. He then adopted his resolution. 

"It was the eve of the fatal day; a report was 
spread of an approaching attack of the French; the 
troops fell back, and the Vaudois companies took posi- 
tion in their respective communes. But the troops of 
St. John and La Tour being at a greater distance from 
their homes than the rest, and more impatient to return 
to them, descended the mountains with such rapidity 
that many of the soldiers lost on the way some part of 
their baggage. The delay of a moment to pick up from 
the ground anything that might have fallen from their 
hands would have seemed to them to endanger the ex- 
istence of that which was dearest to them, and of which 
the loss would have been irreparable. 

" The conspirators, seeing these irritated and warlike 



106 CROSS AND CROWN. 

troops arrive, made their escape by the gate of the 
Convent of the Recollets, which looks out upon the 
torrent of the Angrogna. The list of their names, 
drawn up by themselves, was sent to the Duke of 
Aosta (afterward Charles Emmanuel IV.), who had 
manifested some regard for the Vaudois ; but none of 
these traitors were prosecuted. The king even re- 
proached General Gaudin for having permitted his 
troops to abandon their position. 6 Sire,' replied he, 
6 it is the most glorious day of my life, for I have not 
had to shed blood, but have prevented the effusion of it.' 
He was nevertheless dismissed from the service. But 
if he incurred court disgrace, he became the object of 
the liveliest gratitude to the Vaudois, who owed to him 
their preservation." * 

The French, hearing of this conspiracy, sent messen- 
gers to the Vaudois, promising them large rewards if 
they would open their Valleys to them. The Vaudois 
indignantly refused the offer. All the persecutions, 
they had endured had never made them traitors to 
their country, and they were still true Piedmontese. 

Under Napoleon I. the Vaudois enjoyed genuine free- 
dom for the first time for centuries. The great con- 
queror was deeply impressed with the heroism w r hich 
the mountain Church had displayed, and he confirmed 
them in their ancient privileges, and protected them in 
all their rights until the sword he had wielded so well 
fell powerless from his grasp. In no part of Europe 

* The Israel of the Alps. Vol. ii. pp. 309-10-11. 



THE VAUDOIS. 107 

was his downfall lamented so bitterly as in the Vaudois 
Valleys. Whatever he had been to others, he had 
been a friend and protector to the mountain Church. 

With the Restoration of 1814-1815, Victor Em- 
manuel IV. ascended the throne of Sardinia. With 
him came also the Jesuits, who made the Pope once 
more supreme in Turin. The Vaudois at once made 
their submission to the king, and asked for a confirma- 
tion of their ancient privileges. The sovereign was 
personally in favor of kindness to them, but he was a 
slave to the Jesuits, whose policy is unchanging. They 
prevented the king from carrying out his good inten- 
tions towards his Protestant subjects, and procured 
from him a series of edicts more worthy of a sovereign 
of the middle ages than one of the nineteenth century. 
From this time until 1848 the Vaudois were cruelly 
persecuted by Victor Emmanuel and his successors, the 
Jesuits being the true authors of these barbarous mea- 
sures. They were subjected to indignities, deprivations, 
and cruelties hardly surpassed by any of their former 
sufferings. They were prohibited from holding any 
public office, and were obliged to discontinue their 
labors on Catholic festivals. They were forbidden to 
hold land beyond certain limits, or to make converts to 
their faith, to build new churches except in the most 
incovenient locations, to marry Roman Catholic wives 
or husbands, or to lend their Bibles to Roman Catholics 
for their perusal. At the same time Roman Catholic 
missions were established in their midst, and the Jesuits 



108 CROSS AND CROWN. 

were left free to annoy them with attempts to convert 
them to the faith of Rome. 

Borne had committed her old error once more. She 
had set herself against the spirit of liberty that was 
revolutionizing the world, and she was destined to 
another ignominious failure. Italy was beginning to 
feel the life-giving warmth of the principle that was 
spreading over Europe, and the Jesuits were losing 
their power at Turin. The Sardinian Reformers won 
a decisive victory in the accession of Charles Albert to 
the throne. The new king was pledged to the cause 
of progress, and he resolved to signalize the beginning 
of his reign by proclaiming liberty of conscience through- 
out the kingdom. A petition was drawn up at Turin, 
headed by the gifted Marquis D'Azeglio — the states- 
man, poet, and artist — praying the king to grant liberty 
and equality to the Yaudois and the Jews. Many 
liberal priests and ecclesiastics signed this appeal. An 
overwhelming popular sentiment manifested itself in 
all parts of the kingdom in favor of the Vaudois. The 
journals pleaded their cause with power and success, 
and the mention of their name at dinners and public 
assemblies was greeted with enthusiastic cheers. To 
crown it all, the king, on the 17th of February, 1848, 
issued a decree granting freedom to the Yaudois, and 
placing them on a footing of equality with his other 
subjects. 

The Yaudois received the glad tidings with simple 
gratitude. In all their persecutions they had mani- 



THE VAUDOIS. 109 

fested an unshaken loyalty to the House of Savoy, and 
they were now sincere in their expressions of devotion 
to their liberal king. In all parts of their Valleys 
hymns of thanksgiving and praise were heard. In 
every village processions, with gay banners and patri- 
otic songs, marched through the streets. Illuminations 
gleamed through all the Valleys, and bonfires blazed 
from every mountain peak. These demonstrations 
were not confined to the Vaudois alone. Their Catholic 
brethren joined heartily in them. Only the Jesuits 
and the priests, as a class, looked coldly on. They 
indeed had little cause for joy, for they well knew that 
freedom in Sardinia meant their expulsion from that 
kingdom — an event which soon after took place. The 
Vaudois appointed a deputation to proceed to Turin to 
render to the king their thanks for his goodness to 
them, and the sovereign appointed the 28 th of Feb- 
ruary, 1848, for their reception. 

And now Turin was to witness a wonderful sight. 
For three centuries the beautiful city had been the 
scene of the unremitting persecutions of the mountain 
Christians. From its gloomy dungeons procession after 
procession had passed to the grand square, where, in 
the midst of its splendid palaces, a "noble army of 
martyrs " had offered up their lives in testimony of the 
truth as they had received and kept it. Here had 
gathered, to begin their march, the armies which had 
carried sorrow, destruction, and death so often into the 
Valleys. Here were the prisons in which thousands 



HO CROSS AND CROWN. 

had died in obscurity, and from which the groans of the 
captives had gone up to God for so many centuries. 
Not even Rome itself had been more terrible to the 
Yaudois, more filled with bitter and painful memories 
to them than Turin. For long years it had been the 
chief witness of their sufferings. It was now to be the 
chief witness of their triumph. 

On the 27th of February, 1848, the Yaudois deputa- 
tion set out for the capital. On the way they were 
welcomed with delight at every town and village, 
and with vivas for " Our Yaudois brethren," and for 
" Liberty of conscience." They met a hearty welcome 
at Turin, its citizens, without distinction of faith or 
class, turning out to receive and provide them with 
quarters. 

The next day an immense procession marched 
through the streets of Turin. First came a band of 
young girls clothed in white, with blue girdles, and 
bearing each a little banner in her hand. Then came 
the six hundred Yaudois deputies, and after them 
thousands of Piedmontese, rejoicing over the dawn of 
freedom in their country. As the Yaudois passed 
along, the city rang with cheers. Men rushed from the 
crowd into the ranks of the procession and embraced 
the mountaineers in their delight. Even the liberal 
priests cheered them. The great procession defiled 
before the royal balcony, and more than 30,000 banners 
saluted the king as they passed by. Turin had rarely 
beheld such a spectacle. 



THE VAUDOIS. HI 

The Vaudois were amazed as well as delighted. 
One of their number, writing from the scene, thus 
expresses their feelings : " Dear brother ! who would 
have said that we would have seen all this ? Who 
would have said that on the very castle square, where, 
in former times, the piles were raised for our martyrs, 
and the crowd gathered to witness their dearth, such a 
multitude would this day have welcomed the Yaudois 
with such acclamations of love and fraternity ? Verily, 
it is God who has done all these things ! To Him be 
the glory and the thanksgiving ! and may His blessing 
ever rest upon our pleasant native land ! " 

The long war of eight hundred years between Rome 
and the mountain Church was ended. The truth had 
prevailed, and the Yaudois were for the first time since 
they refused to submit to the claims of the Papacy in 
the possession and enjoyment of a real and substantial 
freedom. In that freedom they have not since been 
disturbed. The growing power and independence of 
Sardinia, the formation of the Italian kingdom, the 
radical changes which have since occurred in the old 
world, have been but so many guarantees of their 
safety. The Pope no longer wields the sceptre of tem- 
poral power, and though Jesuitism has not yet ceased 
scheming to fasten its mediaeval yoke upon the mind 
and conscience of the nineteenth century, we may be 
very sure that Rome will meet with her usual failure 
in her present and future efforts to turn the world back. 
Therefore we may regard the triumph of the Yaudois 



112 CROSS AND CROWN. 

Church as complete, and its future as safe from the 
attacks of its old enemy. 

Still sheltered in its lovely Valleys, the mountain 
Church lives on, maintaining the same faith it received 
from the Apostles, using its ancient ritual, and affording 
to the world the most remarkable instance on record of 
the indestructibility of the truth. No human power 
could have carried this little flock so securely through 
the trials and temptations we have been considering, 
and from which we have seen it emerge unscathed. 
These men trusted in the Lord, and He delivered them. 
It was His arm that led them along the dreary way, 
through which they have come into the possession of 
their rest. Because they kept the Word of His pa- 
tience, He also kept them from the hour of temptation. 




II. 

THE MARTYRS OF VAL LOUISE. 

N the western slope of the Cottian Alps, within 
the limits of the old French Province of 
Dauphiny, is the picturesque defile known 
as Val Louise. It descends from Mount 
Pelvoux, whose snow-capped summit attains an altitude 
of 13,468 feet above the sea, to the basin of the River 
Durance. It is a bold and rugged ravine, abounding in 
fine scenery, but with little to attract those whose souls 
are not in sympathy with the sterner beauties of 
nature. A few settlements exist in the Valley, the 
principal of which is a village called La Ville de Vol 
Louise. The inhabitants are poor, simple in their mode 
of life, and earn their subsistence chiefly by tending 
flocks, and cultivating the limited area of arable 
ground accessible to them. Cut off from the world 
by the lofty mountains which surround them, they 
know but little of what is passing in Europe, and take 
little interest in any but their own affairs. 

Within this mountain valley the faith of the Yaudois 
Christians found a welcome very soon after its intro- 
duction into Piedmont. The simple but powerful truths 
of Christianity appealed to these rude mountaineers 

8 113 



114 • CROSS AND CROWN. 

with a force which can hardly be imagined by those of 
us who live at the present day. The religion of the 
Prince of Peace became their rule of life, and while the 
kingdoms of the world were warring and struggling 
without, within the Val Louise there was peace and 
love. There was little need for the strong arm of the 
law here, for the mountain Christians yielded an 
implicit obedience to those in authority over them. To 
honor and obey their prince was as much a religious 
duty with them as to fear God. Lawlessness and crime 
were unknown among them. Beyond their mountains 
no rights were respected but those of the great nobles 
who were strong enough to maintain them, and no one 
could feel sure that he would not be stripped of his 
possessions by another more powerful than himself. 
Within the Yal Louise each man was honest, and no 
one dreamed of despoiling his neighbor of his goods. 
If one lacked any of the necessities of life, the others 
were ready to share their scanty stores with him. Love 
and charity were the rule of all. Beyond the moun- 
tains woman was but little better than a slave, in spite of 
the boasted chivalry of Europe. She was held to be 
scarcely anything but a creature formed for the purpose 
of ministering to the gratification of men's lusts, and 
female virtue was almost a myth. In the Yal Louise, 
the purity of the maiden and wife was the basis of the 
simple social life of the mountaineers. There was not 
a woman but would have proved a Lucretia in the hour 
of trial, nor a man who would not have died in defence 
of that purity which all held so dear. 



THE MARTYRS OF VAL LOUISE. 115 

So the little Church of the Yal Louise existed, simple 
and pure, a light in the midst of the darkness which 
overshadowed the world. Its pastors kept it true to 
the faith of Christ; and Rome, which had begun to put 
forth her audacious claims, had too much to do to carry 
on her war upon the great of the earth to give heed to 
this little nook of the Alps. 

The meetings of the Church were held from time to 
time in the open air, or in one of the huts of the 
village. The worship was simple, and was similar to 
that of the Yaudois of Piedmont. It went on with- 
out molestation until the thirteenth century, when 
Rome, having consolidated her power, resolved to 
silence every voice which did not join in her praise. 
Between 1238 and 1243, the agents of the Pope crossed 
the Alps and appeared in the Yal Louise. They came, 
they said, for the purpose of converting the mountain- 
eers to the faith of Christ; but their demand was, 
" Acknowledge the supremacy of the Pope ; receive 
the Mass. " The mountaineers heard the demand with 
amazement. The Bishop of Rome, they declared, was 
a local prelate, and had no authority over them, and as 
for the Mass and the other doctrines taught by the 
priests, they were idolatrous and repugnant to the Word 
of God. In vain the priests argued and persuaded. 
The Yaudois Christians met them at all points with 
the uncompromising statement, " We reject these things 
because they are condemned by the Bible." Argument 
being in vain, the priests called in the power of the State. 



116 CROSS AND CROWN. 

The Bishop of Embrun, in whose diocese the Valley 
lay, was made chief persecutor. The Vaudois were 
seized, imprisoned, tortured, burned ; but they kept 
their faith pure to the last, and died calling on the 
name of the Master in whose cause they suffered. 

Soon after this persecution, one of the Yaudois 
brethren of the Valley of Lucerna, in Piedmont, 
Chabert by name, purchased from the Dauphin John 
II., a good house in the principal village of the Valley, 
and presented it to the people of that place, to be used 
by them as a church. They held peaceable possession 
of it until the year 1348. 

One bright morning in the year last mentioned, there 
might have been seen winding along the rugged road 
which borders the foaming Durance, a band of armed 
men, approaching from the direction of Embrun, and 
descending into the peaceful Valley. The sight, so un- 
usual and so startling, alarmed the inhabitants ; the news 
spread rapidly, and soon a crowd had collected in the 
principal village to await the arrival of the troops, who 
came straight on into the place. They halted in front 
of the church. They were accompanied by a number of 
priests, and the leader of the party informed the village 
folk that they had come by order of the Archbishop 
of Embrun to destroy the Vaudois Church of the Val 
Louise, which church, he declared, was a shame and a 
disgrace to the land. The villagers besought him to 
spare their church, assuring him that they were honest 
and harmless people, and had wronged no one. The 



THE MARTYRS OF VAL LOUISE. 117 

officer had no discretion. His orders were positive. 
The church was fired, and in a little while nothing 
remained of it but a heap of smouldering ashes. The 
priests then informed the people that the Archbishop 
forbade the rebuilding of the church on pain of excom- 
munication. 

This wicked deed was not accomplished without 
remonstrance on the part of the Vaudois. These 
remonstrances, however, availed nothing. They were 
the cause of further affliction to the mountaineers. 
Twelve of those who had been most prominent in their 
efforts to save the church were seized by order of the 
priests, and conveyed to Embrun, to be tried by the 
Archbishop for heresy. 

Arrived at that place they were thrown into prison, 
and allowed to lie there for some days. They were 
then brought before the Archbishop, who questioned 
them concerning their faith. This they stated plainly 
and without equivocation. They were then asked if 
they would acknowledge the supremacy of the Pope, 
and accept the Roman Catholic doctrines of the Mass, 
the Sacrament, the worship of the Virgin and the 
Saints, and Confession. They refused to accept either 
or any of these doctrines. The religion they professed 
had been transmitted to them unimpaired through a 
succession of faithful ministers from the days of the 
Apostles. They desired to live and to die in it. As 
for the doctrines offered for their acceptance, they were 
errors, and they could not admit them without doing 



118 CROSS AND CROWN. 

violence to their consciences, and sinning against God, 
whose written Word, the Holy Bible, gave no warrant 
for them. In consequence of this refusal they were 
subjected to cruel tortures. But they remained firm, 
praying to God in their agony to keep them faithful 
unto death. Unable to make apostates of these Chris- 
tians, the Archbishop condemned them to death as 
heretics. 

The square in front of- the Cathedral of Embrun was 
appointed for their execution. A large pile of wood 
and reeds was erected in the centre of the square, 
and on the appointed day a vast concourse of people 
assembled to witness the martyrdom. The martyrs 
were led from their prisons under a strong guard, and 
were attended by a number of monks, who mingled 
their exhortations with cruel reproaches and taunts. 
Each of the Vaudois was dressed in a yellow robe, on 
which were painted red flames, symbolical of those of 
hell. Upon reaching the scene of their suffering, they 
received the curse of the Eomish Church, which, the 
priests declared, cut them off from all hope of Heaven. 
Their heads were then shaved, their feet were made 
bare, and ropes were passed about their necks. Then 
from out the dark Cathedral tower came floating 
the deep tones of the bell which tolled their funeral 
knell, and the Eomish clergy chaunted the dirge . 
appointed for such occasions. 

As for the martyrs, they stood calm and cheerful, 
paying no heed to these sounds of hate and vengeance/ 



THE MARTYRS OF VAL LOUISE. H9 

but lifting their hearts in prayer, and asking for 
strength to suffer bravely for Christ's sake ; and when 
they spoke to each other they uttered only words of 
comfort and cheer. When the dirge was finished, the 
priests again exhorted the Yaudois to accept the faith 
ef Some, and again did the latter refuse to purchase 
their lives at the sacrifice of the truth. The execu- 
tioners advanced. One by one the victims were seized 
and strangled. Their lifeless bodies were then thrown 
on the burning pile, and in a little while the twelve 
faithful witnesses for Christ were but a heap of ashes, 
which the monks scattered to the four winds of 
heaven. 

When the news of the martyrdom reached the 
hamlets of Val Louise, there was sore weeping and 
sorrow among those to whom the martyrs were bound 
hy the ties of love and kindred ; but the mourners did 
not sorrow as those without hope. In the depth of 
their grief they thanked God that their loved ones had 
not betrayed His Cause, and prayed that their example 
might be a lesson and a warning to the Church to be 
faithful unto death, that having passed unscathed 
through the fire of persecution, it might receive, with 
these its beloved martyrs, the Crown of life, which God 
has promised to those who suffer for His sake. 




III. 

JOHN LOUIS PASCHAL. 

WO young men of the Vaudois Valleys chanced 
to meet one day in a hostelry at Turin. Their 
conversation turned upon the affairs of their 
Valleys, and they expressed their regret that 
their own country offered so few inducements to them. 
The population was so large that the soil could not 
supply the wants of the people, and these young men 
were of the opinion that it would be necessary for them 
to seek employment elsewhere. A Calabrian noble- 
man, lodging at the same inn, overheard their conver- 
sation, and questioned them concerning their own coun- 
try and their wishes. He then described to them the 
advantages of the Province of Calabria, in which he 
held large possessions, and said to them, " My friends, 
if you choose to come with me, I will give you delight- 
ful plains instead of your rocks." The young men were 
pleased with his offer, and agreed to accept it provided 
they could first obtain the consent of their families. 
This condition was approved by the noble, and he 
authorized them to extend his offer to as many of their 
friends as would go with them. 

Returning to their homes, they made known the 

120 



JOHN L UIS PASCHAL. J 21 

nobleman's proposition, and the people of the Valleys 
sent commissioners into Calabria to examine the coun- 
try before deciding upon the offer made them. These 
soon returned with glowing accounts of the land. " In 
that country," says Gilles, the historian, "there were 
beautiful streams and little hills, clothed with all sorts 
of fruit trees growing promiscuously, according to the 
soil which they affected, such as olive and orange trees. 
In the plains were vines and chestnuts ; along the lower 
hills, walnuts, oaks, beeches, and other hard wood 
trees ; on the slopes and crests of the mountains, larches 
and firs. Everywhere were to be seen in abundance 
lands fit for cultivation, with few to cultivate them." 

The Valleys of Piedmont, on the other hand, were 
overcrowded, and a number of the Vaudois families 
resolved to accept the offer of the Calabrian noble. 
Preparations were made for their departure. The 
young people who contemplated marriage made haste 
to perform their contracts, and those who had posses- 
sions to dispose of, found ready purchasers for them. 
It was painful to sunder the ties that bound them to 
their kindred and to their old homes, but all felt that 
it was better they should go. The whole Vaudois popu- 
lation accompanied them to the base of the mountains, 
and there took a tearful leave of them, all kneeling in 
solemn prayer, and asking God's favor and protection 
for the emigrants. Then the Bible was solemnly com- 
mitted to them, and they were charged to hold fast the 
faith of their fathers. The people of the Valleys then 



122 CROSS AND CROWN. 

went back to their homes, and the emigrants began 
their march towards the South. 

The Province of Calabria lay in the southern portion 
of the Kingdom of Naples. It took the emigrants 
twenty-five days to reach it, and their journey was 
.accomplished at the cost of considerable hardship and 
many privations. Upon reaching Calabria, they were 
well received by the great lords of that country, who 
granted them land upon the most favorable conditions. 
They required the Yaudois merely to pay them as 
lords of the soil a certain annual rent, and then left 
them to manage their agricultural matters as they 
pleased. They were also granted the right of organiz- 
ing independent communities, of selecting their own 
civil and ecclesiastical rulers, and of levying and collect- 
ing such rates as they might see fit to impose upon 
themselves. This was great liberty for that period, and 
the Yaudois caused the agreement to be written out in 
full, and signed by the contracting parties. This settle- 
ment was made in Calabria, about the year 1340; and 
this Charter of the Yaudois, if it may be so called, was 
subsequently confirmed by the King of Naples, Ferdi- 
nand of Arragon. 

The Yaudois settlement prospered in a marked 
degree. Their lands soon became noted as the best 
cultivated and most productive in the kingdom. They 
paid their rents and taxes punctually, yielded a 
prompt and cheerful obedience to the laws, carried on 
their schools, and by their intelligence and education 



JOHN LOUIS PASCHAL. 123 

attained a vast superiority over the ignorant natives by 
whom they were surrounded. They increased rapidly 
in numbers, and within half a century after their arri- 
val in Calabria had built the towns of Borgo d'Oltra- 
montani, and St. Xist, and several villages and hamlets. 
The excellent manner in which they cultivated their 
lands gained them the favor of the nobles, whose reve- 
nues were . greatly increased thereby. Their example 
also began to be followed by the native Calabrians, and 
the agriculture of the province attained a degree of per- 
fection unknown before their arrival. Towards the end 
of the fourteenth century the Vaudois were joined by 
some of their brethren from the French Valleys, and 
even as late as the year 1500 they received additions 
from the Valleys of Piedmont. In all Italy there could 
not be found a happier, more enlightened, or more pros- 
perous community than the Vaudois settlement in 
Calabria. 

Nor were the spiritual interests of these people 
neglected. They were regularly visited by the Pied- 
montese Barbas, appointed by the Vaudois Synod. 
These pastors came two and two — an old man and a 
young assistant. They were changed every two years. 
Setting out from the Piedmontese Valleys, they made 
a regular circuit of the Peninsula. If, in going to Cala- 
bria, they passed to the right of the Apennines, by way 
of Genoa and Naples, they returned by the opposite 
side of the mountains, through the cities of the west 
coast of the Adriatic, to Venice and Milan, and thence 



124 CROSS AND CROWN. 

back to Piedmont. These visits were anxiously looked 
for by the Calabrian Church, and they were the means 
of keeping it informed of the history of the brethren 
in other parts of Italy. 

The Romish clergy from the first regarded the Vau- 
dois with hostility. They would have persecuted them 
without remorse had it not been to their interest to 
tolerate them. " Already, at different times,, says Per- 
rin, i the clerical race had made complaint that these 
ultramontanes did not live religiously, like other peo- 
ple ; but the seigneurs restrained the cures, saying that 
these cultivators of the soil came from distant and 
unknown regions, where, perchance, the people were 
not so much addicted to the ceremonies of the Church ; 
but that in the main they were remarkable for honesty, 
charitable towards the poor, punctual in paying their 
rents, and full of the fear of God ; that therefore there 
was no reason why their consciences should be troubled 
about a few processions, images, or lights, which they 
had less than the other people of the country.' This 
restrained those who looked upon them with ill will, 
and prevented for a time the murmurs of their neigh- 
bors, who, not having been able to draw them into 
alliances by intermarriage, became jealous when they 
saw their lands, their cattle, and their labors more 
blessed of Heaven than their own. Thus they remained 
in liberty, prospering as the people of God, even in the 
land of bondage. The priests themselves, says Meille, 
had never levied such large tithes as since the Vaudois 



JOHN LOUIS PASCHAL. 125 

had come to make the country productive. To drive 
them away, would have been to render themselves poor, 
and they held their peace." * 

Thus matters went on until the period of the Refor- 
mation. The Yaudois continued to prosper, but the 
enmity of the Romish clergy to them increased every 
year. As the fanaticism of the priests grew, their self- 
interest had less weight with them, and their hostility 
at length culminated in open war against the Yaudois. 
In 1561, Rome turned a horde of savage monks and 
soldiers against the Yaudois, and massacred them in 
the cruellest manner. A few managed to escape to 
their brethren in Piedmont, but the Yaudois Church in 
Calabria was utterly exterminated. The circumstances 
of this massacre were so atrocious that when the news 
reached the city of Rome, the people were so exaspe- 
rated by the recital that they burned the palace of the 
Pope to the ground. 

Previous to this, however, it was the fortune of the 
Calabrian Yaudois to give to the Church one of its most 
eminent and revered martyrs. Hearing that the Yau- 
dois of Peidmont had erected churches for public wor- 
ship, the Calabrian brethren determined to do likewise, 
and to secure a pastor who should remain with them 
permanently. The more sagacious of the community 
argued against this policy, declaring that it would but 
increase the hostility of the Romish clergy, and be sim- 

*Muston. 



126 CROSS AND CROWN. 

ply a source of misfortune to them. This advice was 
not taken, however, and the brethren sent one of their 
number to Geneva to secure a permanent pastor for 
their Church. The messenger was Mark Uscegli. He 
reached Geneva in safety, and laid the request of the 
Calabrian Church before the elders of that place. After 
due consideration, the elders decided to grant the prayer 
of the Italians, and to send them a permanent pastor. 
They selected for this position, which they knew would 
be one of great danger, a gifted and eloquent man, who 
had abandoned the profession of arms, to become a 
preacher of the Gospel. He was John Louis Paschal, 
a native of Coni, in Piedmont. 

Paschal was a young man, and had but recently 
entered the ministry. He was full of enthusiasm, and 
eager to do service in his Master's cause. Two days 
before his nomination to the Calabrian pastorate, he 
had been betrothed to Camilla Guarina, a young woman 
of Piedmont, who, like himself, had fled to Geneva to 
be able to worship God in peace. Upon being informed 
of his selection to the dangerous post, he hastened to 
her, and asked her consent to leave her and go to 
Calabria. The poor girl overwhelmed with grief could 
only exclaim, "Alas ! so near to Rome, and so far from 
me!" -She was a true child of the Yaudois, however, 
and she bade him do his duty and trust in God to bring 
them together again. Paschal then formally accepted 
the mission confided to him, and soon after set out for 
Calabria, where he arrived in the spring of 1559. 



JOHN LOUIS PASCHAL. - 127 

The Calabrian brethren received their young pastor 
with great affection, and were well pleased to obtain a 
teacher who united so much zeal to such high intellec- 
tual gifts. They desired that he would follow the prac- 
tice of the Church at Geneva, and preach the Gospel to 
them openly and in public, and his own zeal induced 
him to yield to their wish. His preaching was emi- 
nently acceptable to them. They crowded around him 
enthusiastically, "with the joyous affection of brethren, 
and always hungering the more for the word of life, the 
more that he multiplied it to them, like the bread broken 
by the Lord." 

These public preachings gave great offence to the 
priests, and they at once endeavored to excite the pas- 
sions of the ignorant multitude by telling them that a 
Lutheran had come among them to destroy the country 
with his heretical doctrines. They demanded that Pas- 
chal and all his adherents should be put to death, and 
they succeeded to such an extent in inflaming the 
people against the Vaudois that there was danger of 
bloodshed. Perceiving the danger, the Marquis Salva- 
tor Spinello, principal feudal lord of the Vaudois, who 
was at that time visiting Foscalda, a little town close 
by, sent a message to the Yaudois, asking them to 
send him a deputation of their people to explain the 
matter to him. The Yaudois at once entreated Pas- 
chal, as their minister, to accompany their deputies, 
and to explain to the marquis their reasons for acting 
as they had done. Paschal signified his willingness to 



128 CROSS AND CROWN. 

do so, and in July, 1559, set out with his friends for 
Foscalda. 

Upon reaching that town, they went to an inn. 
They were met there by one of the marquis's own 
household, who was secretly a friend of their doctrines. 
Being informed of the danger which threatened them, 
he wished to save them. Addressing himself to Pas- 
chal, whose conduct he perceived would govern that 
of the others, he said : 

" Listen to me. You have powerful enemies. The 
best defence of the feeble is to keep out of their way. 
I advise you, therefore, to go back without presenting 
yourselves." 

" What ! " exclaimed Paschal, " shall I skulk away 
without defending myself, without contending for the 
truth, without pleading for my beloved Church ? " 

" The only object of pleading is to gain a cause," 
said the prudent friend ; " in this instance it can only 
be gained by keeping silence." 

" That would not only be feeble, but shameful," said 
the young minister warmly. " The Christian is not to 
measure his strength, but to do his duty. Moreover, 
the help of God cannot fail us in this conflict ; where is 
there more strength than in His Word?" 

" Its strength," said his friend sadly, " goes for no- 
thing with those who do not listen to it. Take heed ! 
you will not be judged according to the Word of God, 
but according to that of men." 

" Then," replied the undaunted pastor, " the honor 



JOHN L UIS PA S CHAL. 129 

of defending the Word of God is better than that of 
triumphing over men." 

" You will defend it better by preaching it to your 
churches, which desire it, than by exposing it to the 
contempt of those who wish to suppress it." 

" But it is my churches themselves which are called 
to account, and their pastor ought to be there." 

All warnings and arguments were useless. Paschal 
had determined that he would speak plainly to the mar- 
quis, and he was so sure of the excellence of his cause, 
that he could not help believing that he would be sent 
back to his charge in peace, he and his companions 
being found guiltless of wrong. Moreover, he thought 
it not impossible that, by a forcible statement of the 
truths of Christianity, he might open the eyes of the 
marquis himself to a knowledge of the errors of Rome, 
and show him the way of eternal life. To accomplish 
this was in his estimation worth any risk. 

At the appointed time he and his companions pre- 
sented themselves before the marquis. He had ex- 
pected to be confronted with the priests who had 
accused him, and to be allowed an opportunity to 
defend his faith. He now perceived his error. The 
marquis was in full sympathy with the priests, and 
had summoned the Yaudois before him merely to draw 
Paschal into his power. Neither he nor the priests 
desired to argue with the Yaudois pastor, but merely 
to silence him. It was a cunningly laid plot, and it 
was thoroughly successful. Paschal was rudely cut 



130 CROSS AND CROWN. 

short in his remarks by the marquis, who ordered the 
Yaudois deputies to return to their homes. Paschal 
and Mark Uscegli were excepted from this order, and 
were made prisoners. They were at once thrown into 
a dungeon, where they were kept for eight months, 
without being allowed to communicate with their 
friends. They were confined in the same dungeon, 
however, and during this sad imprisonment, they com- 
forted each other with Christian consolations. 

From Foscalda they were removed to Cosenza, where 
they were imprisoned for more than a month. Here 
Mark Uscegli, or as Paschal affectionately calls him, 
Marquet, or " Little Mark," was put to the torture to 
make him abandon his faith and embrace that of Rome. 
He steadfastly refused, and from this time we hear no 
more of him. The inference is that he died a" victim 
of Romish cruelty. 

In April, 1560, Paschal was sent from Cosenza to 
Naples, in company with twenty-two galley slaves. 
He was heavily ironed, and his fetters were so painful 
to him that he could not rest. By bribing the officer 
in charge of the detachment with all the money he 
possessed, he induced him to loosen the fetters a little, 
and in this way secured some modification of his suffer- 
ings. Nine days were occupied in the voyage to Naples, 
and during this time he preached repeatedly to his fel- 
low prisoners, exhorting them, and proclaiming the ful- 
ness and the necessity of the salvation which is by 
Jesus Christ. 



JOHN LOUIS PASCHAL. 131 

From Naples he was conveyed to Rome that he 
might be immediately dealt with by the Inquisition. 
He entered the city, by the 'Appian Way, passing in by 
the Gate of Ostium. It was along this route that St. 
Paul had passed under the escort of his Roman guard. 
Along this route hundreds of the martyrs of the Primi- 
tive Church had gone to death and immortality. And 
now, fourteen centuries later, another martyr passed 
through the famous gateway, and trod the hard streets 
of the Eternal City, following in the steps of those early 
witnesses for Christ. He was conducted to the Tower 
of Nona and cast into a strong dungeon. No one was 
allowed to hold communication with him, except the 
Inquisitors, who continually urged him, without effect, 
to recant. 

His brother, Bartholomew Paschal, was at this time 
living at Coni. He was a Roman Catholic, but was 
devotedly attached to John Louis, and he now deter- 
mined to make an effort to see him, and to try to save 
him. He procured a letter of recommendation from 
the Governor of Coni to the Count of Trinity, then resid- 
ing in Rome. Upon arriving in that city, he presented 
this letter, and through the influence . of the count, 
obtained permission to visit his captive brother. It 
•was also hoped by the Papal authorities that he would 
be able to induce John" Louis to recant. 

He was ushered into a damp and gloomy dungeon, 
which was so dark that he could scarcely distinguish 
the objects in it. Yet by the dismal light he could see 



132 CROSS AND CROWN. 

that the martyr's arms were tied tightly with small 
cords which cut and inflamed his flesh. He was pale 
and emaciated, but calm and resolute. The Inquisi- 
tor who accompanied Bartholomew pointed in silence to 
the captive, and the new comer, making himself known, 
bent down to embrace the sufferer. At the same time 
he burst into tears at the sad sight. 

" My brother," said Paschal, cheerfully, " why do you 
distress yourself so much ? Know you not that a leaf 
cannot fall from a tree without the will of God ? " 

" Hold your peace, you heretic," cried the Inquisitor, 
roughly. 

Controlling his emotion, Bartholomew said to him : 

" Is it possible, my brother, that you are obstinate 
in disowning the Catholic faith, which everybody else 
holds ? " 

" I hold that of the Gospel," was the answer. 

" Think you, then," said the Inquisitor, " that God 
will condemn all those who do not follow the doctrine 
of Luther and Calvin ? " 

"It is not for me to determine," replied Paschal, 
"but I do know that He will condemn those who, 
knowing the truth, do not profess it." 

" You speak of truth," said the Inquisitor, sneeringly. 
" You disseminate errors." 

" Prove me that by the Gospel," said Paschal, quickly. 

The Inquisitor paid no heed to this remark, but con- 
tinued : 

" You would have done far better to have remained 



JOHN LOUIS PASCHAL. 133 

still in your own house, enjoying your inheritance, and 
dwelling among your brethren, instead of rushing into 
heresy, and losing all that you had." 

" I have nothing to lose upon the earth," he replied, 
earnestly, " that I must not lose sooner or later, and I 
acquire an inheritance in Heaven, which all the powers 
of the earth shall not be able to take from me." 

The Inquisitor then put an end to the interview, and 
Paschal was left alone in the darkness and misery of 
his dungeon. There was not even straw to lie upon, 
and he was beginning to suffer from fever. Yet in all 
this wretchedness he retained his constancy. In the 
darkness and silence of his prison he could commune 
with the Master whose faithful witness he was, and it 
pleased God to give him strength to endure it all. 

The next day he was summoned before the members 
of the Holy Office, who for more than four hours urged 
him to abandon the faith for which he was being pun- 
ished, and to accept that of Rome in its place. They 
advanced every argument they were possessed of, but 
they could obtain no concession. Faint and worn with 
hunger and suffering, he met. their every argument, 
and baffled every device to entrap him into a surrender 
of his belief. For three days this scene was repeated 
daily. Then finding him inflexible, the Inquisitors 
allowed his brother to approach him once more. Bar- 
tholomew earnestly entreated him to yield a little, and 
not to bring upon his family the disgrace of a con- 
demnation. ^ 



134 CROSS -AND CROWN. 

" Must I honor my Saviour less than them," said 
Paschal, reproachfully, " that I am to become per- 
jured to Him? " 

" You will honor Him in your heart, although you 
remain in the Church," said Bartholomew. 

" If I am ashamed of Him on the earth," said the 
heroic sufferer, " He will deny me in Heaven." 

"Ah, my dear brother," urged Bartholomew, " return 
to the bosom of your family, we would all be so happy 
to have you there." 

" Would to God," exclaimed Paschal, with emotion, 
" that we were all met again, united in the Saviour's 
love ! for my native skies would be pleasanter to me 
than the vaults of this prison. But if I remain here, 
it is because Jesus abides with me, and my Saviour is 
better to me than my family." 

" Would it be to lose Him to come with us? " asked 
Bartholomew, awed by this outburst. 

" Yes," was the reply, " for the gate of my dungeon 
will not open except by means of an abjuration, and 
that would be the loss of my soul." 

" Your friends, then, are nothing to you ? " 

" Jesus' says, he that is not ready to give up his 
father or his mother for my sake, is not worthy 
of me." 

Bartholomew then told him he would give him half 
of all his possessions if he would make his peace with 
the Pope and go back with him to Coni ; but Paschal, 
at these words, burst into tears, and begged him to 



JOHN LOUIS PASCHAL. I35 

desist, that to hear him utter such words afflicted him 
more grievously than the fetters with which he was 
bound. " The world," said he, " passeth away, with the 
lusts thereof, but the Word of God endureth forever. 
God grant me such strength that I may never forsake 
Him." 

66 Three days after," says Bartholomew, in his narra- 
tive, " I found means to speak with him again, and 
when the monk was proceeding to exhort him anew, 
he said to him : 'All your arguments are founded upon 
human prudence, but do not shut your eyes to the 
grace of God, for you will be inexcusable before Him.' 
The monk was very much astonished and said, 6 God 
have mercy on us! 1 '0 that He may,' added the 
prisoner. But the day following, without uttering a 
word, he made a sign to me that I should begone, hav- 
ing perceived that the Inquisitors had begun to suspect 
me ; and so I left him without speaking, and returned 
to Piedmont." 

And now the martyr was left alone to prepare for 
that death which he knew could not be very far 
distant. His sufferings increased as his bodily strength 
diminished, but his firmness remained unshaken. 
Convinced that the end was near, he wrote to his affi- 
anced bride a touching and beautiful letter. " The 
affection which I bear to you," he wrote, " increases 
with the increase of my love to God ; and the more 
that I have made progress in the Christian religion, 
the more also have I loved you." Then giving her to 



136 CROSS AND CROWN. 

understand that his death might soon be expected, 
he continued : " Console yourself in Jesus Christ ; and 
let your life be an exhibition of His doctrine." 

Paschal had been a prisoner in Rome since the 
middle of May, and during that time his sufferings 
had been very great. The end was now at hand. On 
Sunday, the 8th of September, 1560, he was conducted 
under guard from his prison to the Convent Delia 
Minerva. There he was informed of his sentence, 
which was that he should be burnt at the stake the 
next day. He was once more urged to recant, but he 
declared that he confirmed with a steadfast and joyful 
heart all the answers he had previously given ; and 
raising his eyes to heaven, he gave thanks to God that 
He had called him to the glory of martyrdom. He was 
then taken back to his prison, where he passed the 
night in prayer. 

The next morning, September 8th, he was led to 
the great square of the Castle of St. Angelo. Close by 
the bridge over the Tiber a pile of inflammable wood 
had been prepared. On one side of the square, on a 
platform raised above the ground, sat Pope Pius IV., 
and around him were grouped the cardinals, bishops 
and priests of his Church — all come to gloat over the 
agonies of the martyr. 

Paschal had walked in silence from his prison ; but 
now, seeing the great dignitaries and vast multitude 
that had gathered to witness his death, he broke forth 
into a strain of great eloquence, " and began to pro- 



JOHN L U18 PA S CHAL. 1 37 

claim the ineffable sweetness of the Gospel of Christ." 
The people listened in wonder and admiration. The 
Pope became troubled, and the priests began to mur- 
mur. The only sound heard in the great square was 
the voice of the martyr, uttering in clear, firm tones, 
his dying testimony. There were murmurs of sympa- 
thy in the crowd, and the Pope's brow darkened. The 
Inquisitors, recovering from their surprise at the sud- 
denness and force of Paschal's words, ordered him to 
be strangled, to silence his voice. The executioners 
seized him, tightened the fatal cord about his neck, and 
a few minutes later his lifeless body was flung upon 
the burning pile, which reduced it to ashes. The ashes 
were carefully gathered up and thrown into the Tiber, 
which bore them slowly into the bosom of the ocean. 

Eome had silenced the voice of the young pastor, 
but she could not destroy the story of his life, nor the 
lesson of his martyrdom. They were very precious to 
the Church for which he died, and they comforted and 
consoled it in hours of bitter trial, and gave it courage 
to hold fast to the truth which he had sealed with his 
blood. 



IV. 
MARTIN GONIN. 



y l J N the year 1532, the Synod of the Vaudois Church 
,| was held in the Valley of Angrogna. At this 
meeting it was resolved that the Church should 
send to Geneva, in Switzerland, and procure a sup- 
ply of printed Bibles and religious books to be distributed 
among the Vaudois of Piedmont, there being a great 
necessity for such publications. The priests and the 
Roman Catholic authorities maintained a strict watch 
over the frontiers for the purpose of excluding the 
Bible and the religious publications of the Protestants 
from Italy, and it was a work of no little difficulty to 
introduce such books into the dominions of Savoy. 
The task of bringing them over the Alps was confided 
to discreet and daring men, not unfrequently to the 
Barbas, or pastors themselves. They brought them 
packed in their luggage or in bales or boxes of goods, 
and even with this precaution it was necessary to avoid 
the common routes, and follow the remotest and most 
perilous mountain paths. To be captured on such an 
expedition was fatal to the Bible vender, for death was 
the penalty awarded by Rome to all who sought to 
give the Word of God to the common people. 

138 



MARTIN G0N1N. I39 

Among those who had successfully crossed the moun- 
tains, and had distributed the Bible and the books of 
instruction sanctioned by the Church, was the pastor 
of Angrogna, Martin Gonin. A man of unflinching 
courage and great bodily endurance, he was also pru- 
dent and discreet. He was well acquainted with the 
mountains, in which his whole life had been passed, 
and he was full of zeal in the great work undertaken 
by the Church. After his return from the mission we 
have mentioned, he continued to reside in the Valley 
of Angrogna for a number of years, in the exercise of 
his ministry. Towards the close of the year 1535, he 
in common with other pastors, felt the need of procur- 
ing a new supply of religious books, which could be 
obtained only at Geneva. To procure them it would 
be necessaiy to send one of their number to Geneva, 
and as the selection, of the books would be a matter of 
considerable importance, they would have to choose 
some one whose experience and knowledge of the 
wants of the people should enable him to make a 
proper selection. The undertaking was one of great 
danger, and it was admitted that he who should 
attempt it would take his life in his hand. Martin 
Gonin at once volunteered to make the journey, and 
his offer was accepted. 

He waited until near the close of February, 1536, 
and then set out in company with another Yaudois, 
John Girard, who was going to Geneva for the purpose 
of founding a printing office, especially with a view 



140 CROSS AND CROWN. 

to supplying the wants of his own countrymen. They 
travelled by the usual roads, but they incurred no spe- 
cial danger, for the snows lay so heavy upon the Alps 
as to render them almost impassable. Few travellers 
dared to venture along the dangerous roads, and in con- 
sequence of this, they were but imperfectly watched 
by the Piedmontese troops. Gonin and his companion 
met with no adventures on their journey, and reached 
Geneva in safety. They were warmly received by the 
Church at that place, and the pastor had no difficulty 
in making a selection of the books that were needed. 
This done he set out on his return, leaving Geneva 
late in March. 

The King of France and the Duke of Savoy were now 
at war with each other, and the French had seized 
upon Bresse, Savoy, and the greater part of Piedmont. 
To return by the way he had come from Angrogna 
would have been fatal to the pastor, for the road was 
held along almost its entire length by the soldiers of 
the King of France, from whom no Protestant could 
hope for mercy if captured. Therefore, Gonin resolved 
to pass through France, and to endeavor to reach the 
Vaudois Valleys of Dauphiny, where he was sure of 
a warm welcome and assistance, and from which he 
could easily pass back to his own Valley. The first 
part of his journey was accomplished in safety, but as 
he was nearing the borders of Dauphiny, he was seized 
by a detachment of soldiers which he happened to en- 
counter, and was sent as a prisoner to Grenoble, on 



MARTIN G0N1N. 141 

suspicion of being a spy of the Duke of Savoy. Upon 
reaching that city he was examined by some of the 
officers of the Parliament of Grenoble. He answered 
their questions so readily and frankly that they were 
entirely convinced of his innocence of the charge, and 
ordered him to be released. 

Before making known to the prisoner the order of 
his judges, the jailor into whose hands Gonin had fallen, 
resolved to rob him of such valuables as he might have 
on his person. He accordingly stripped him of his 
garments, and made a thorough search of them. In the 
lining of Gonin's coat, he discovered several written 
papers which the pastor had neglected to destroy after 
his capture. These were simply letters of affectionate 
counsel and encouragement addressed by the pastors 
of Geneva to their Christian brethren of the Vaudois 
Valleys, and which Gonin had undertaken to convey 
to their destination. The jailor, wishing to secure 
favor with the judges, at once laid these letters before 
them, and they, after reading the papers, recalled their 
order of release, and commanded him to put Gonin in 
prison again. 

For two days the pastor lay in his filthy dungeon, 
not knowing what would be his fate, but strongly sus- 
pecting that his name was to be added to the long roll 
of the martyrs of his Church. The thought did not 
dismay him, for while life was sweet to him, he was 
not unwilling or afraid to lay it down for his Master's 
sake. 



142 CROSS AND CROWN. 

On the third day he was again summoned before his 
judges. The charge against him this time was that he 
was a Lutheran. 

" I am not. a Lutheran," he replied, when called upon 
to speak in his defence, " for Luther did not die for me, 
but Jesus Christ only, whose name I bear." 

" What is your doctrine ? " asked one of the judges 
sharply. 

" That of the Gospel," replied the pastor, calmly. 

" Do you go to mass ? " 

" No." 

" Do you acknowledge the authority of the Pope ? " 

" No." 

" Do you acknowledge that of the King ? " 

" Yes," replied the pastor, promptly ; " for the powers 
that be are ordained of God." 

" But the Pope is also one of the powers that be," 
said the chief judge, quickly, hoping to entrap the pastor 
in his own words. 

" Only by the support of the devil," rejoined Gonin. 

This bold answer threw the judges in a fury, and 
they angrily ordered the pastor to be silent. Gonin 
then told them that he held no doctrines for which he 
ought rightfully to be imprisoned or to suffer punish- 
ment, and declared that, if they would allow him an 
opportunity, he would prove his opinions by the Bible 
They were resolved to show him no mercy, however. 
They had heard enough, they said, and would proceed 
no farther with the examination. They denounced him 



MARTIN GONIN. 143 

with great violence as an accursed heretic, and com- 
manded him to be put to death. 

They were obliged, however, to execute their sentence 
with great caution. Grenoble had already been affected 
to a considerable extent by the doctrines of the Re- 
formation, and the Lords of Bonne, Villars, Mailhet, 
Bardonanche, and other powerful gentlemen of the 
vicinity were greatly inclined to the Reformed doctrines. 
The judges and the priests were afraid that a public 
execution might bring these nobles to the rescue of 
Gonin, and that he might by his words addressed to the 
people who should collect to witness his death, so move 
them in his behalf that the Romish Church would be 
deprived of its victim. Therefore it was resolved that 
his death should be secret, and the executioner was 
ordered to strangle him at night and cast his body into 
the River Isere. 

Conveyed back to his dungeon, the venerable Barba 
gave himself up to prayer. He prayed for the advance- 
ment of the work in which he was engaged, for the con- 
version of all men to the true faith of Jesus Christ, for 
his own family thus doomed to sorrow, and for his 
struggling countrymen. There was no thought of fear, 
no vestige of a wish to save his life by a recantation. 
For him to die was gain. There was no need of priest, 
or absolution, or masses for this brave soul. He had 
fixed his faith on the Rock of Ages, and in the gloom 
of his dungeon he was in close communion with his 
Saviour and the supreme Head of his Church. 



144 CROSS AND CROWN. 

It pleased God that he should not linger long. On 
the night of the 26th of April, 1536, the pastor was 
aroused from his prayer by the sound of heavy foot- 
steps descending the stone stairway leading to his 
dungeon. They came nearer and nearer, and at last 
paused at the door. There was a rattling of keys, the 
bolts shot back, allowing the massive door to swing 
open. The pastor, well knowing the meaning of the 
sounds, rose to his feet, and stood calm and serene, 
awaiting his murderers. The light of a lantern borne 
by one of the men revealed the executioner and several 
assistants standing in the doorway. 

" I see plainly what you come for," said the pastor, 
calmly, as the men paused on the threshold, as if un- 
willing to enter ; " but do you think to deceive God ? " 

" In what ? " asked several, astonished by his solemn 
words. 

" You intend to throw me into the river when there 
is nobody to see," he answered ; " but will not God see 

you?" 

The executioner burst into a brutal laugh, and with- 
out replying to the martyr, said to his men : 

" Get your ropes ready." 

" And you, poor sinners," said Gonin, turning to the 
prisoners who had been confined with him, and to whom 
his words during his captivity had been full of comfort, 
" remember that there is pardon in one only, that is in 
Jesus Christ ; and were your souls red even as crimson, 
He could make them white as snow." 



MARTIN GONIN. 145 

" "What is the meaning of this ? " asked one of his 
companions in misfortune. 

" The stains most indelible, even according to human 
laws," he replied, " can be washed out by Him. Repent 
and be converted, for the kingdom of God is at hand." 

" Are the ropes ready ? " asked the executioner, inter- 
rupting him. 

Receiving an affirmative answer, he ordered his men 
to seize the pastor and bind him. Gonin made no re- 
sistance, but suffered the ruffians to tie his arms and 
hands behind his back. This done, they led him up 
the damp stairway into the prison yard. The night 
was clear and cool. The stars shone brightly in the 
heavens, giving an abundance of light for the consumma- 
tion of the wretched deed. Out of the prison enclosure, 
and through the narrow and dark streets of the silent 
town, the murderers led their victim. Soon the rush 
of the swift current of the Isere was heard, and in a 
few minutes the river itself lay before them sparkling 
brightly in the clear starlight. They paused at the 
water's edge, and the executioner fastened one end of 
a long rope to Gonin's ankle. The pastor now asked 
leave to pray. This was granted him, and kneeling at 
the brink of the river, he commended his soul to his 
Maker. Then, turning to the executioner, he said he 
was ready to die. 

The executioner, without speaking, immediately tied 

a small cord around the pastor's neck. Into this he 

inserted a stick, a few turns of which deprived the 
10 



146 CROSS AND CROWN. 

pastor of the power of breathing. He fell heavily to 
the ground, and the executioner bending over him, 
completed the strangulation. Then the motionless body 
pas thrown into the river. The coolness of the water 
partially restored the martyr to consciousness. His 
limbs moved convulsively, and there were quiverings 
all through his body. Anticipating this, the execu- 
tioner had retained his hold of one end of the cord he 
had tied to Gonin's ankle, and with this he kept the 
body floating until the water and the cord together 
ended the victim's sufferings. Then when all was over, 
he released the line. The swift current of the Isere at 
once caught the body in its embrace, and whirling it 
around and around, bore it rapidly away towards the 
Rhone. It was only a lifeless corpse that the cold 
waters held in their embrace, for the soul of the martyr 
had " winged its flight to Heaven's high chancery," 
there to receive not only the martyr's crown of glory, 
but to stand an accusing witness against that corrupt 
Church which had become drunk with the blood of the 
Saints. 



V. 
BARTHOLOMEW HECTOR. 

3||[N the month of July, 1555, there came into 
jj Piedmont from Geneva, a vender of Bibles, 
named Bartholomew Hector. He was a native 
of Poitiers, in France, and after his conversion 
to the Reformed faith had settled with his family in 
Geneva, that he might enjoy his religion in peace and 
safety. In order to earn a living he had undertaken 
the sale and distribution of Bibles, and in the discharge 
of his duty, he passed from place to place, carrying 
with him the precious treasure of the Word of God. 
His journeys were attended with great danger, and 
he was often forced to resort to various disguises in 
order to pass unharmed through the midst of the dan- 
gers with which the Church of Rome encompassed the 
path of those who sought to diffuse a knowledge of the 
Gospel. Yet he passed through them all in safety. 
Wherever he went, he found a ready sale for his 
Bibles, for the people were awakening to a sense of 
their dependence upon the holy book. He was wel- 
comed in the castle of the noble, and in the humble 
cottage of the peasant. The powerful lord and the 
simple herdsman sought his books, and read them with 

147 



148 • CROSS AND CROWN. 

avidity. The joy with which all classes welcomed the 
Bible strengthened the humble vender to pursue his 
work with greater energy. He soon ceased to look 
upon himself as a mere vender of books. He was a 
missionary, a veritable messenger of glad tidings, car- 
rying the priceless truths of Christianity to people who 
were hungering and thirsting after the truth. It was 
a noble work, and one worth all the danger which 
attended it. The money which he was to receive for 
his Bibles influenced him but little ; it was the know- 
ledge that he was carrying the guide to eternal life to 
the people that sustained him in his weary mountain 
journeys. He was doing the work of God. 

In July, 1555, he came into Piedmont, and devoted 
himself to circulating the Bible through the Vaudois 
Valleys. He met with a ready sale for all he could 
supply, and having already visited a number of Vau- 
dois villages and hamlets, he climbed the mountains of 
Angrogna, and continued his work among the herds- 
men of highest peaks. He stopped first at the Alp of 
La Vachere, one of those lovely spots to which the 
Vaudois shepherds conduct their flocks in summer. 

. Here, during a brief period, the mountain is free 
from snow. Myriads of exquisite flowers spring forth 
in a few days after the snow disappears, and as if by 
magic these lofty peaks robe themselves in all the 
beauty and richness of their annual vegetation. The 
shepherds received the vender of Bibles with delight, 
bought several books from him, and sent him next day 



BAR THOL OME W HE CTOR. 149 

to a higher Alp, that of Infernet, which looks down on 
the Vaudois stronghold of Pra Del Tor. Here a fresh 
welcome met him. These shepherds, separated for the 
time from the companionship and influence of the 
Church in the Valleys below, were necessarily cut off 
from all spiritual nourishment until their return to the 
Valleys. They were doubly glad to obtain the Bible, 
and were doubly in need of it. They represented to 
Bartholomew Hector the absolute need of the Scriptures 
among their brethren, and he resolved to abandon 
entirely the villages where the pastors could minister 
to the wants of the people, and confine his labors exclu- 
sively to the herdsmen of the mountains, who needed 
him most. From the Alp of Infernet he determined 
to proceed to that of Laouzoun, and thence to make his 
way into the Valley of St. Martin. It was along and a 
dangerous journey. Not only was the road difficult, 
but it lay through the possessions of some of the bit- 
terest enemies of the Vaudois and most zealous parti- 
sans of Rome. Yet, in spite of the danger, the vender 
of Bibles determined to proceed, animated and strength- 
ened by the thought of the good he would do, should 
he succeed in reaching his destination. 

On his way down into the Valley he was obliged to 
pass Rioclaret. The lords or seigneurs of this place 
were named Truchet. They were Roman Catholics, 
and enemies of the Vaudois. Suspecting the real 
character of Bartholomew Hector, they arrested him ; 
but not wishing to deal with him themselves, they sent 



150 CROSS AND CROWN. 

him to Pignerol. At this place he was cast into 
prison, and a list of the books found with him was 
sent to the Senate of Turin. His only crime was sell- 
ing the Bible to the people — a heinous offence in the 
eyes of Rome. 

For seven months he was suffered to lie forgotten in 
the dungeons of Pignerol. At last, on the 8th of 
March, 1556, he was summoned before the judges of 
that place. 

" You have been caught selling heretical books," 
they said to him, sternly. 

" If the Bible contains heresies in your estimation," 
he said, calmly, " in mine it contains the truth." 

" But they make use of the Bible to keep the people 
from going to Mass," said one of the judges. 

" If the Bible keeps them from it," said Hector, " it 
is because God does not approve of it ; for the Mass is 
a piece of idolatry." 

This was a bold declaration, and it aroused the anger 
of the judges, who denounced him as an infamous 
heretic, and told him sharply that there was no salva- 
tion out of Christ's Church. 

" Out of Christ," said the vender of Bibles, "I grant 
there is no salvation, and by His grace I will not for- 
sake Him." 

The judges were too angry to hear him further, and 
he was taken back to prison. He passed the night in 
prayer and communion with God. The next day the 
judges again called him before them. One of them 



BAR THOL OME W HECTOR. 151 

said to him that it was a shame for a man to deny the 
truth as he had done, whereupon the vender of Bibles 
said he would prove his doctrines were based upon the 
Bible, if permission were granted him. 

" "We will hold no discussion with error," was the 
reply. 

" But judges are appointed to discern between error 
and truth," said Hector. " Permit me then to prove 
that I am in the truth." 

" If you are not in the Church," said the president 
of the court, " you are not in the truth." 

" I am in the Church of Christ, and I prove it by 
the Gospel." 

" Eeturn to the Church of Borne if you would save 
your life," exclaimed one of the judges, interrrupting 
him. 

The vender of Bibles answered simply : 

" Jesus says : ' He who would save his life shall lose 
it, and he who shall lose his life for my sake, shall live 
forever.' " 

Disconcerted by this reply the judge said, sharply : 

" Think of the abjuration which is required of you : 
it is the, only means left you of saving yourself." 

" What about the saving of my body if I lose my 
soul ? " 

Threats and arguments were in vain. The vender 
of Bibles was a Christian man, and he preferred death 
to apostasy. Unable to shake his resolution, the judges 
decided that he should be sent to Turin, and be dealt 



152 CROSS AND CROWN. 

with by the courts of that city, and accordingly he was 
conveyed thither in chains. 

The new judges were inclined to be merciful. The 
simple and manly declarations of Bartholomew Hector, 
his innocence of any actual crime, and the artlessness 
of his manner, all inclined them in his favor. But 
they dared not acquit a man who had gained the 
enmity of Rome without first compelling him to abjure 
his faith. They offered him several chances for his 
life, but the Vaudois Christian would accept of no 
compromise. At last his judges said to him : 

"If you are resolved not to abjure your faith, at 
least you may retract your former declarations." 
" Prove to me," said he, " that they are erroneous." 
"It is not proving that is in question, but living," 
said they. 

"My life is in my faith," was the heroic reply; "it 
is it which has made me speak." 

Though they could not acquit him, the judges were 
unwilling to take this brave and good man's blood upon 
their heads by a direct condemnation. They accord- 
ingly declared that as he had been placed on trial for 
heresy, an offence against the Church rather than a 
crime against the State, it was proper that he should 
be turned over to the Holy Inquisition, to be examined 
and dealt with as the Inquisitors should see fit. This 
decision was arrived at on the 28th of March, 1556, 
and Bartholomew Hector was at once committed to the 
prison of the Holy Office. 



BARTHOLOMEW HECTOR. 153 

On the 27th of April, he was summoned before the 
Inquisitors. Here he was permitted to indulge in a 
more elaborate defence than had been allowed him 
before the civil tribunals. His words were so forcible 
and earnest, his manner so meek and respectful, that 
the Inquisitors were troubled. They adjourned the 
case, and adjoined with themselves for the trial of it 
the Vicars-General of the Archbishopric of Turin and 
the Abbey of Pignerol. 

Before this tribunal, thus strengthened, the poor 
captive was placed to answer again to the charge of 
heresy. The Inquisitors told him that they only asked 
for a simple retraction of his religious opinions. If he 
would make that, his life should be spared. The same 
offer had been made before this to great and powerful 
kings and lords. Some had asked time to consider, 
and had made the desired confession at the end of this 
period ; others had assented to the proposal on the spot. 
Not so with this simple vender of Bibles. He had 
drunk too deeply of the living waters he had carried to 
others to be in doubt as to his duty. He heard his judges 
patiently, and then turning upon them a face which 
shone as an angel's, he answered : 

" I have said the truth. How can I change my 
words and make a retraction ? Can a man change the 
truth as he would change his garment?" 

The Inquisitors were perplexed. They decided that 
his sentence should be postponed, in order that he 
might have time to reflect and abjure. Then they 



154 CROSS AND CROWN. 

sent him back to prison. He did indeed reflect, as he 
had been charged to do, but reflection only brought 
with it a deeper conviction of the truth of his religious 
belief. He was constant in prayer to God, and strength 
was given him to be faithful unto death. The time 
thus allowed him expired on the 28th of May, but find- 
ing him still unshaken, the Inquisitors prolonged it 
until the 5th of June, and again until the 10 th of that 
month. Each time he was brought before them they 
exhorted him again to recant, and each time he repeated 
his simple refusal to abandon the truth. His life was 
full of trouble, he said, and he was willing to depart 
and be with Christ. The Inquisitors then ordered him 
to be turned over to the civil tribunals to be dealt with 
according to the law. His gentle and manly behavior 
had so touched them that they departed from their 
usual course, and recommended him to the mercy of 
the judges who were to pass sentence upon him. 

The law was express, and awarded one unvarying 
punishment to those convicted of the crime of heresy — 
death. The vender of Bibles was taken before the judges 
on the 19 th of June, and by them sentenced to be burned 
alive in the square of the Castle of Turin on a market 
day. Subsequently, in consideration of the recommen- 
dation of the Inquisitors, the court ordered the execu- 
tioner to strangle the victim during the kindling of 
the pile. The martyr listened calmly to the reading 
of the sentence, and said meekly : 

"Glory be to God, for that He has thought me 
worthy to die for His name." 



BAR THOL OME W HE CTOR. 1 55 

Many persons came to him in prison to urge him to 
recant, promising if he would do so to procure a revo- 
cation of his sentence. To all these he addressed him- 
self with power, urging them to repent and embrace 
the faith of Jesus Christ as set forth in His Gospel. 
They listened in spite of themselves, moved to the 
very depths of their souls. The Inquisitors commanded 
him to cease his exhortations, and told him they would 
have his tongue cut out if he attempted to speak to 
the people on his way to the stake- 
On the next market day, the vender of Bibles was 
led from his prison to the great square which had wit- 
nessed the death of so many of his brethren in the 
faith. The streets were filled with a silent, sympa- 
thizing throng, for his story had gone abroad, and had 
elicited a degree of pity unusual under such circum- 
stances. In spite of the barbarous threat of having his 
tongue cut out, Hector spoke constantly to the people 
during his whole walk from the prison to the stake, 
proclaiming to them the atoning merits of Christ, and 
urging them to repent and be saved through the blood 
of their Kedeemer. 

Arrived at the stake there was a pause. The pile 
had been erected in the centre of the square, the spot 
consecrated by the blood of many Yaudois martyrs. 
Around it were gathered a body of the soldiers of the 
Duke of Savoy, and back of these were dense masses 
of the people come to see the martyr die. The priests 
of the persecuting Church were there, wailing the 



156 CROSS AND CROWN. 

Miserere, and from the dark tower of the castle the 
huge bell tolled the victim's death knell. The day 
was bright and balmy. The soft Italian sky bent 
down lovingly over the beautiful city as if holding to 
the martyr's view a faint earthly glimpse of the glories 
which lay beyond it. Far in the distance rose the snowy 
pinnacles of the Alps which shut in the Vaudois Valleys, 
where Christian men and women were mourning for 
their martyr brother, and praying that he might be 
strengthened to endure death for Christ's sake. "Within 
the square the faces of men wore an anxious troubled 
look, but the countenance of the vender of Bibles was 
calm and peaceful. The world was fast fading from 
him ; Heaven was opening on his sight. 

"With a firm, steady step he mounted the pile, and 
turned to the executioner to await his action. At this 
moment there was a commotion in the throng, a half- 
suppressed murmur of applause, and an officer of the 
ducal court made his way through the mass to the 
stake. A breathless silence reigned throughout the 
square, every ear being strained to catch the meaning 
of this unlooked for interruption. Approaching the 
stake the officer called out to Hector that he had come 
to save him. The vender of Bibles turned to him in 
surprise, and the officer added that his judges were 
willing to give him yet one more opportunity to escape. 
He need only say : " I disavow all heresy," and his 
life and liberty would be given him even then. Such 
an avowal would commit him to nothing, and would 



BA R THOL OME W HE CTOR. j 57 

leave him free to shape his subsequent course as he 
pleased. The officer urged him not to reject the 
mercy of the court, but to accept their offer, and save 
his life. 

The look of surprise with which the martyr had 
turned to the new comer, had gradually deepened into 
an expression of intense sadness. To this faithful 
Christian man this last offer was but the old tempta- 
tion under a new form. It was in his eyes an abso- 
lute recantation of his faith, an actual betrayal of the 
Saviour who had died for him. This was no time for 
unholy compromises. Instead of returning an answer 
to the messsenger of the court, he fell on his knees on 
the pile on which he was to die, and clasping his hands 
and raising his eyes to Heaven, he exclaimed in a loud 
voice : 

" Lord ! give me grace to persevere unto the end ; 
pardon those whose sentence is now to separate my 
soul from my body • they are not unjust, but blind. 
Lord ! enlighten by Thy Spirit this people who are 
around me, and bring them very soon to a knowledge 
of the truth." 

At these words the people, who had waited in a pain- 
ful suspense, to see how the martyr would receive the 
offer of pardon, burst into a loud sob, and there were 
some who cried out that it was a shame to put to death 
so good a man who gave such evidence of being a 
Christian. The officers, fearful of the effect of this 
feeling, ordered the executioner to put his victim to 



158 CROSS AND CROWN. 

death without delay. The martyr was seized, thrown 
down upon the pile and strangled, and at the same 
moment the flames shot up enveloping the stake and 
the victim from the gaze of the multitude. The next 
instant it was all over. The soul of the vender of 
Bibles had passed through the pearly gates into the 
New Jerusalem, to receive its reward from the hands 
of Him who has said : " To him that overcometh 
will I grant to sit with me in my throne, even as I also 
overcame, and am set down with my Father in His 
throne." Kome had killed the body, but the Gospel 
of Christ had saved the soul of Bartholomew Hector. 




VI. 

JOAN MATHURIN. 

HE town of Carignan stands on the left bank of 
the River Po, south of Turin, and beyond the 
actual limits of the Yaudois Valleys. Being 
near to them, however, it contained during the 
sixteenth century, a number of Vaudois who had been 
tempted by the prospect of profitable employment to 
settle in it in spite of the edict which confined them to 
their Valleys. For some time the Piedmontese authori- 
ties suffered these persons to remain unmolested ; but 
at length the Romish priests, finding that the Vaudois 
were assembling secretly for prayer, determined to 
exterminate them. The persecution began in 1560. 
Without giving them any warning, the priests caused 
them to be seized and imprisoned as contumacious 
heretics. They were not allowed any examination or 
opportunity of defending themselves. They were 
seized on suspicion, condemned on suspicion, and were 
burned within three days after their arrest. They 
could save their lives by one means only — by abjuring 
their religion and going to Mass. 

The first person thus seized in Carignan was a French 
refugee named Mathurin. He had come from the 

159 



160 CROSS AND CROWN. 

Vaudois Valleys of France, and had married a woman 
of the Yaudois Valleys of Piedmont. He was a plain 
and simple workingman, who cared little for the great 
matters going on around him, and whose only desire 
was to earn a living for his family and to worship God 
in peace. He was detected in the act of conducting 
family prayer in his own house, and for this " terrible 
crime " was sentenced to be burned alive. The com- 
missioners urged him to abjure his religion and save his 
life ; but he refused. 

" We give you three days to reflect/' said they ; " but 
after that time you will be burned alive if you do not 
come to Mass." 

The family of Mathurin were plunged in great grief 
by his arrest and sentence. His wife, Joan Mathurin, 
went at once to the commissioners, and asked to be 
allowed to see her husband. 

" We will grant your request," they replied, " pro- 
vided that you do not harden him in his errors." 

" I promise," she replied, "that I will not speak to 
him except for his good." 

The commissioners interpreting this promise as an 
intimation that she meant to persuade him to recant, 
conducted the wife to the dungeon where her husband 
was confined. Mathurin was overjoyed at seeing her 
again. The commissioners remained to witness the 
interview, curious to see if a man could withstand the 
tender pleadings of a young and beautiful wife to whom 
he was bound by the deepest affection. But they had 



JOAN MATH UR IN. 161 

entirely misunderstood the promise of the Vaudois 
wife. She devotedly loved her husband, and the 
prospect of his death rilled her heart with anguish. 
She was a worthy daughter of the martyrs, however, 
and her greatest fear had been that her husband would 
prove weak in the hour of trial, that the thought of 
leaving her would tempt him to forsake the path of 
duty ; and she had come to urge him to be firm, to do 
his duty to his God and his Church, and if necessary, 
to die with him. 

"Accordingly," says Gilles, by whom the martyrdom 
is related, " she exhorted him, in presence of the com- 
missioners, as earnestly as possible, steadfastly to perse- 
vere in his religion, without putting the death of the 
body, which is of brief duration, in the balance against 
the eternal salvation of his soul." 

The commissioners were furious when they heard her 
words, and bitterly reproached her for having deceived 
them. She paid no heed to them, however, but holding 
her husband's hand in her own, she went on gently, 
but firmly : 

" Let not the assaults of the wicked one make you 
abandon the profession of your hope in Jesus Christ." 

"Exhort him to obey us, or you shall both be 
hanged," cried the commissioners. 

Again unheeding them, she said to her husband : 

"And let not the love of this world's possessions 

make you lose the inheritance of Heaven." 

" Heretical she devil," cried one of the magistrates, 
11 



162 CROSS AND CROWN. 

" if you do not change your tone, you shall be burned 
to-morrow." 

Turning full upon her persecutor, and looking him 
calmly in the face, the brave Christian woman asked 
him : 

" Would I have come to persuade him to die rather 
than to abjure, if I could myself seek to escape death 
by apostasy?" 

" You should fear at any rate the torments of the pile," 
said the magistrate, abashed by her manner and words. 

" I fear Him who is able to cast both body and soul 
into a more terrible fire than that of your billets." 

" Hell is for heretics," exclaimed one of the commis- 
sioners. " Save yourselves by renouncing your errors." 

"Where can the truth be if not in the Word of 
God?" she asked. 

" This will be the destruction of you both," said one 
of the magistrates, yielding to his admiration and pity. 

The face of the Vaudois wife lighted up with a sud- 
den and overwhelming joy, and turning to her hus- 
band, who had not released her hand, but had clung to 
her as if all his strength lay in her, she said to him 
tenderly : 

" Blessed be God, because having united us in life, 
He will not separate us in death." 

One of the commissioners, a cruel and fanatical 
man, here broke into a savage laugh, and exclaimed 
exultingly : 

" Instead of one, we shall have two of them to burn." 



JOAN MATHURIN. 163 

"I will be thy companion to the end," said the 
heroic woman, quietly, speaking to her husband rather 
than to the commissioners. 

"Will you come to Mass and have your pardon?" 
asked the magistrates once more. 

" I would rather go to the pile, and have eternal 
life," was her answer. 

"If you do not abjure," said one, sternly, "Mathurin 
shall be burned to-morrow, and you three days after." 

" We shall meet again in Heaven," she said, meekly. 

" Think of the delay that is still granted you," said 
the magistrate, who had appeared to pity her. 

" The length of it is of no consequence, for my reso- 
lution is for life," she answered. 

" Say, rather, it is for death," he said, sadly. 

" The death of the body is but the life of the soul," 
was her response. 

One of the most violent of the magistrates, he who 
had exulted over the prospect of burning two, instead 
of one, now exclaimed brutally : 

" Have you nothing else to say to us, you damned 
obstinate wretch ? " 

"Nothing," she answered, meekly; "except that I 
beseech you not to put off my execution for three days, 
but to let me die with my husband." 

The magistrates consulted together for a few mo- 
ments, and then one of them said to her : 

"Be it so. You will both be burned at the same 
stake to-morrow." 



164 CROSS AND CROWN. 

With this they departed. The heavy door of the 
dungeon clanged behind them, and the husband and 
wife were left alone — yet not alone, for God was with 
them to cheer and comfort them. Mathurin had from 
the first made up his mind to die rather than abjure, 
and the heroism of his noble wife confirmed him in 
this resolution. He did not oppose her determination 
to die with him. It was better to enter upon their 
rest together than for one to live on exposed to the 
bitter malice of a persecuting Church. And above all, 
it was very sweet to pass their last hours on earth 
together, and to be able to cheer and encourage each 
other as they should go down hand in hand into the 
valley of the shadow of death.* They spent their last 
night in prayer, and in tender communion with each 
other. The brave wife had her reward on earth, for 
she saw her husband grow strong and cheerful, and 
even rejoice with her at the fate which was to unite 
th cm for all eternity. Her presence made the gloomy 
cell seem full of light to him, and her beloved face 
shone upon him through the darkness as the face of an 
angel. Never had either been so dear to the .other; 
never had their love been so full, so pure, so free from 
earthly taint as on this eve of martyrdom. 

The next day, being the 2d of March, 1560, a 
stake was set up in the public square of Carignan, and 
around it was heaped a pile of fagots ready for light- 
ing. A crowd of townspeople had gathered around the 
pile, and prominent among them were the priests and 



JO A N MA THURIN. j g 5 

monks of the Church which had brought about this 
terrible deed. It was late in the afternoon when the 
deep tones of the Cathedral bell announced the ap- 
proach of the condemned. A few minutes later a 
detachment of men at arms entered the square, and 
halted at the stake,, Then came a band of monks 
chaunting the requiem for the dead, and after them, 
hand in hand, erect, calm, and even smiling, came 
Joan Mathurin and her husband. A murmur of pity 
ran through the throng, but was quickly suppressed as 
the priests turned abruptly to discover who had dared 
to pity the victims of the " Holy Church." The mar- 
tyrs paid no heed to the chaunting or exhortations of 
the priests. They spoke to each other only to exhort 
to still greater firmness, and they did not quail when 
the executioner came to lead them to the stake. Hand 
in hand they mounted the pile, and submitted to be 
chained to the fatal post. The slanting rays of the 
declining sun lighted up the scene with a soft and sub- 
dued radiance, encircling the heads of the innocent vic- 
tims of cruelty and superstition with a halo of light. 
Then the executioner fired the pile. The flames flared 
up wildly, hiding the martyrs from view. Through 
the mingled glare of the flames and gloom, of the smoke 
could be heard the calm, patient voice of Joan Mathu- 
rin bidding her husband be of good cheer, for the gates 
of Heaven were opening on her sight. Then there 
was silence, broken only by the roar of the flames. 
The sun went down and the soft twilight came steal- 



166 CROSS AND CROWN. 

ing on. The crowd still hung silent and sad about the 
spot. The monks had ceased their Miserere, and the 
peals of the great Cathedral bell had died away. The 
flames still hissed and leaped around the devoted pair. 
Not a cry nor a groan of pain had escaped them. 
Locked in each other's arms they had yielded to the 
devouring element. When the moon arose, only a 
heap of smouldering embers and a mass of blackened 
bones remained to show the spot from which the Vau- 
dois wife and her husband had passed hand in hand 
into the Kingdom of God. 



VII. 

SEBASTIAN BAZAN. 

1 URING the occupation of Piedmont by the 
'§mi French, from 1536 to 1559, a number of the 
towns of that country had pastors of the Vau- 
dois faith. Among these was the town of 
Pancarlier. In this town dwelt a wealthy and noble 
family named Bazan, who were converts to the creed 
of the Yaudois. When liberty of conscience was 
forbidden to the people, they left their native place 
and went to the Vaudois Valley of Lucerna, in the 
early part of the seventeenth century. They fixed 
their residence at La Tour, where Sebastian Bazan, the 
eldest son, had already spent some years for the purpose 
of receiving religious instruction. The Bazan family 
then consisted of Sebastian, his family, his two brothers 
and their families, and their aged mother. Gilles, the 
Yaudois historian, who was an intimate friend of 
Sebastian Bazan, says: "He was a very zealous 
defender of the Protestant religion, a man of sincerity, 
and an enemy of all vice, so that the enemies of virtue 
and of truth could not easily endure him ; but for the 
rest, he was a man held in great and universal esteem, 
and of good reputation." 

167 



168 CROSS AND CROWN. 

The activity of Bazan in behalf of his religion 
earned him the bitter enmity of the monks, who were 
resolved to take advantage of the first opportunity to 
make him suffer for his opposition to them. This 
opportunity at length presented itself. Matters of 
importance called him to the town of Carmagnola, on 
the 26th of April, 1622. He made no secret of his 
journey, though he was aware of the enmity of the 
monks, and appeared openly in the town. Word was 
immediately conveyed to the monks of Carmagnola of 
his presence there, and they determined to seize him as 
a heretic. Bazan was known to be a brave man, and it 
was admitted by his enemies that he would sell his life 
dearly if attacked. Therefore they resolved to proceed 
against him with a force which would render resistance 
hopeless. Accordingly, they collected a strong body of 
armed men, and, proceeding to the inn where Bazan. 
was lodging, surrounded him on all sides. His attempt 
at resistance was overcome, and he was seized, bound, 
and conveyed to the prison of the town. 

He remained there a captive for several months, 
during which time his friends exerted themselves ener- 
getically to obtain his release. He was permitted to 
communicate with his family, and did not lack for 
Christian comfort and counsel. After remaining at 
Carmagnola for a few months, he was transferred to 
the prisons of the Senate of Turin. Soon after his 
arrival there, he wrote to his friend Gilles : 

" What favors God has granted me in your letters 



SEBASTIAN BAZAN. 169 

and your prayers ; for every good thing comes to us 
from God, even the blessing of friendship, and it is He 
who endows his own with strength and hopefulness in 
their trials, such as our adversaries cannot credit, who 
accordingly seek to make us yield by long imprison- 
ments, and by perpetually urging us to abjure ; but I 
am assured that the Lord will never forsake me, and 
will sustain me to the end. Be so good as to visit my 
family, and exhort my wife to remain constant in the 
fear of God. She has need to be affectionately admon- 
ished, and gently remonstrated with, which you know 
better how to do than I to write about it." Then com- 
mending himself to the prayers of his friend, he con- 
cluded : " May God work with His own hand to 
bring us to perfection, that resting on His holy promises, 
we may triumph gloriously with our Captain, Jesus 
Christ, in His glorious heavenly Kingdom. From the 
prisons of Turin/this 14th of July, 1622." 

This was the language and this the spirit of the man 
who had lain for three months in a Komish dungeon, 
and whose sagacity assured him that the probability 
was that he would only leave it to meet a martyr's 
death. He had some hope, however, at the time this 
letter was written, that his case would be submitted to 
the Duke of Savoy, from whom he had reason to expect 
justice. To his disappointment, he was not brought 
before the duke, but was ordered by the Senate of 
Turin to be turned over to the Inquisition for examina- 
tion, and was accordingly transferred to the dungeons 



170 CROSS AND CROWN. 

of the Holy Office. From this time the fate of Sebas- 
tian Bazan was sealed. No captive ever emerged from 
the gloomy dungeons of the Inquisition to regain life 
and liberty except by the sacrifice of his conscience ; 
and this price Bazan was not willing to pay. Yet the 
Inquisitors received him with apparent kindness, hope- 
ing by good treatment to win him over to an abjuration. 
They argued with him, professed the utmost regard for 
his soul, but all in vain. The prisoner was firm. He 
had embraced the faith of Jesus Christ, and he had no 
need of the superstitions of Home. When the Inquisi- 
tors found that their entreaties accomplished nothing, 
they had recourse to threats. The most terrible punish- 
ments were promised him if he still persisted in his 
refusal to abjure, but all with the same result. He 
was then subjected to the cruellest tortures, and racked 
until it seemed that his body would be pulled in pieces, 
but he bore his sufferings with a firmness which no 
human power could have given him. The Inquisitors 
only desisted because they feared he would die under 
the tortures, and that they would thus be deprived of 
the pleasure of burning him. They left him, bruised 
and sore, with his joints swollen and dislocated by the 
terrible strain to which they had been subjected, to 
languish in his dungeon. They expected that he would 
yield at length to the sufferings of his body and to the 
horror and despair of his gloomy prison, and consent to 
anything in order to save his life. They little knew 
the man they were dealing with. Sebastian Bazan did 



SEBASTIAN BAZAN. 171 

not lean on an arm of flesh. His trust was in God, and 
it was the Almighty arm which sustained him in his 
moments of greatest weakness, and which led him 
boldly along the rugged path of martydom. 

Yet the friends of the captive had not yet abandoned 
the hope of saving him. Urgent appeals were made in 
his behalf. The gallant Marshal Lesdiguieres, of 
France, when he heard of the sufferings of Bazan, 
wrote to the Duke of Savoy, who was under obligations 
to him, asking the life and liberty of the brave sufferer. 
He said : 

"I have been accustomed to address my supplica- 
tions to your highness, certain beforehand of not being 
refused. I request of your highness the life and liberty 
of one called Sebastian Bazan, detained in the prisons 
of your city of Turin. He is a man with whom no 
fault can be found, except as to his religious opinions; 
and if those who profess the same religion with him 
ought to be punished with death, then great Christian 
princes, and even your highness yourself, will have 
great difficulty in repeopling your dominions. The 
King of France has granted peace throughout all his 
kingdom to those of that religion, and I boldly counsel 
your highness, as your very humble servant, to take 
the same way. It is the surest means of firmly estab- 
lishing tranquillity within your dominions." 

Lesdiguieres wrote a second time to the duke, with 
whom other men of importance made intercession in 
behalf of the prisoner. The duke, inclined to be mer- 



172 CROSS AND CROWN. 

ciful in this case, insisted that the Inquisition should 
comply with these humane appeals, and give its captive 
his freedom. But the Inquisition was more powerful 
than the Duke of Savoy within his own dominions. 
The Inquisitors met his demand with the reply that 
the case was no longer in their hands. They said, with 
affected humility and regret, that the matter had been 
submitted to the Pope for his decision, and that until 
the pleasure of the Pontiff was made known, they dared 
not set Sebastian Bazan free. They had fully decided 
upon his death, and the reference to Rome was a mere 
mockery — a trick meant to baffle the merciful efforts 
of the duke, who was obliged to submit. 

For a year and a half Bazan was kept in prison. 
His enemies were not able to triumph over him at any 
period of this long captivity, for he bore his sufferings 
with a calm resignation which astonished them, and 
submitted to the severest tortures with the courage and 
firmness of a Christian hero. At last, on the 22nd of 
November, 1623, he was visited by the officers of the 
Inquisition, and informed that the judgment of the 
Holy Office had been confirmed at Rome, and that he 
would be burned alive the next day. 

" I am contented to die," he said, calmly and bravely, 
" since it is the will of God, and will be, I trust, for 
His glory. But as for men, they have pronounced an 
unjust sentence, and they will soon have to give an 
account of it." 

The Inquisitors laughed at his closing words then ; 



SEBASTIAN BAZAN. 173 

but that night they recalled them with surpise and 
uneasiness, for the Chief Inquisitor, he who had been 
most active in the persecution, and who had pronounced 
the sentence of death upon Bazan, died suddenly that 
evening, in the very flush of strength and health. 

The next day, November 23rd, the martyr was led 
to the great square of Turin, to die for his faith. 
Before leaving the prison he had been bound, and a 
gag had been forced into his mouth to prevent him 
from speaking to the people who had crowded the 
square to witness his death. 

The vast throng was silent, as he approached the 
stake in company with the creatures of the Inquisition, 
for his story was well known in Turin, and considerable 
sympathy had been awakened by it for him. With a 
firm step the martyr ascended the pile, followed by the 
executioner, who proceeded to chain him to the stake. 
At this. moment, the gag fell from his mouth, and he 
exclaimed with a loud voice : 

" People, it is not for a crime that I am brought 
hither to die ; it is for having chosen to conform myself 
to the Word of God, and for maintaining His truth in 
opposition to error." 

A great sob broke from the multitude, giving evi- 
dence of their sympathy with him. The Inquisitors 
perceiving this, made haste to silence the martyr's 
voice by ordering the executioner to light the pile. 
The torch was applied, and the flames shot up around 
the victim of Home, completely hiding him from view. 



174 GROSS AND CROWN. 

Then out of the fire and smoke came the voice of Sebas- 
tian Bazan, singing in loud, clear tones the exquisite 
hymn of Theodore Beza, which the Yaudois Christians 
sing after the celebration of the Lord's Supper. Loud 
and strong the voice of the martyr soared above the 
terrible fire, not faint with suffering and pain, but 
clear and triumphant with holy joy and heaven-given 

strength : — 

Laisse-moi desormais, 
Seigneur, aller en paix, 
Car selon ta promesse, 
Tu fais voir h mes yeux 
Le saint glorieux 
Que j 'attendais sans cesse. * 

The people broke into uncontrollable weeping, and 

as the smoke cleared away every eye was strained to 

catch a glimpse of the martyr as he stood in the midst 

of the bright red flames, his hands clasped, and his eyes 

fixed on the sky, beyond which he saw his eternal 

home. Then the dense column of smoke shot up again, 

and the voice grew fainter and fainter, faltering out 

feebly the words of the hymn. 

Tu fais voir h mes yeux 

Le saint glorieux 

Que j 'attendais sans cesse. 

Another burst of flame and smoke, and then the 

brave voice was silent, and the fire worked its will. 

Yes, the voice was silent on earth, but in Heaven it 

was singing the song of the Redeemed. 

* A beautiful and touching version of the words of Simeon upon 
beholding the infant Saviour. See St. Luke ii. 29, 30. 



PART II. 

THE HUGUENOTS 



THE HUGUENOTS 



i. 

HISTORICAL SKETCH OF THE PROTEST- 
ANT CHURCH IN FRANCE. 



The Reformation in France — Causes op it — The Bible Unknown 
to the People — Invention of the Art op Printing — The Bible 
Circulated through the Agency of this Art — Translation of 
the Scriptures — Demand for the Bible — Effect of Reading 
the Scriptures — The Reformation at Meaux — Palissy's De- 
scription of the Reformers of Saintes — The Church of Rome 
prohibits the Reading of the Bible — The Inquisition estab- 
lished in France— The War against the Bible and the 
Printing Press — Persecutions of the Reformed — The Bible, 
Venders — Rise of the Huguenot Party — The Priests set the 
King against the Huguenots — Destruction of Merindol and 
Cabrieres — Spread of the Reformed Religion — The Psalms of 
. Marot — Singing in Public forbidden — Charles IX.— Massacre 
at Vassy — The Religious Wars — Peace — Marriage of the King 
of Navarre and Marguerite of Yalois — The Huguenots in Paris 
— Signs of Trouble — Attempted Assassination of Coligni— Mas- 
sacre of St. Bartholomew — Horrible Scenes — Massacres in 
the Provinces — The Work of the Jesuits — Rejoicings in Rome 
— Indignation of the Protestant Powers — Remorse and Death 
of Charles IX. — The Civil Wars — Accession of Henry IV.— 
The Edict of Nantes — Conspiracies of the Jesuits — Richelieu's 
Policy towards the Huguenots — Prosperity of the Huguenots 
after the edict of nantes — social and political condition 
of the Huguenots — Louis XIV. becomes King — His enmity to 
the Reformed — The Jesuits succeed in establishing their 
Influence over him — Injustice to the Huguenots — Flight of 
the Reformed from France — Cruel Policy of Louis — Severe 
Persecutions of the Reformed in France — Emigration for- 
12 177 



178 CROSS AND CROWN. 

bidden — The Dragonnades— Extraordinary Conversions — Ac- 
tivity op the Jesuits — A Corrupt Bargain — Marriage op the 
King — Revocation op the Edict op Nantes — Efforts to Ex- 
terminate the Huguenots — Terrible Sufferings of the Re- 
formed — Effects of the Revocation — The Galley Slaves — 
Hostility of the Romish Church to the Working Class — De- 
cline of French Literature and Power — The Reigns of Louis 
XV. and Louis XVI. — The Revolution — The Huguenots under 
Napoleon — Subsequent History of the French Protestants — 
Their Present Condition. 

j/ii N each country of Europe the Reformation had 
JJ its distinctive features. In France it was pecu- 
^» liarly a national movement. The French, in 
common with the rest of the world, were wak- 
ing up from the moral and intellectual stupor of the 
previous century, and were beginning to lose faith in 
the religion of Rome. The keen intellect of the 
nation had come to doubt the traditions and authority 
of a Church which had so many marks of fallible 
human workmanship upon it, and men found it hard 
to believe in the purity of a clergy whose daily lives 
proved them as dissolute and careless of the spiritual 
part of religion as the most blase men of the world. 
They saw the clergy protected in their outrages by a 
libertine king, who burdened the country with a weight 
-of taxes levied for the purpose of supporting him in 
his licentious pleasures. They saw a small privileged 
class of nobles and gentry oppressing the great mass 
of the people, disregarding their rights, and punishing 
with merciless rigor any attempt at resistance. They 
saw their sovereign, nominally an independent monarch, 
xeally the slave of an Italian prince, and their country's 




Tta i£ 



E iHI M © U O 



THE HUGUENOTS. I79 

freedom held subject to the will of a foreigner. It was 
a gloomy picture that presented itself to the thinkers 
of the age, and they could see no relief from the 
abasement into which France was plunged, for Rome 
and the clergy set themselves sternly against all efforts 
in behalf of mental and moral improvement. The 
clergy assumed to be the teachers of the people, but 
they were in reality their masters, and their whole 
power was exerted to sink the land deeper in the 
depths of superstition. Turning to Rome, the real 
" power behind the throne " of France, matters were 
infinitely worse. For many decades the Papal throne 
had been filled by a succession of ambitious and unscru- 
pulous men who cared more for their temporal than 
their spiritual interests, using the latter mainly to 
promote the former. They had exerted themselves 
chiefly to bring emperors and kings into a state of 
vassalage to them, and had spared no arts however cor- 
rupt to strengthen their power in foreign lands, and so 
well had they succeeded that scarcely a European sove- 
reign dared to act for the interests of his country when 
they were opposed to those of Rome. These Popes and 
their followers had by degrees built up the mighty 
fabric of a Church which claimed to be infallible, but 
which men saw to be utterly corrupt. They claimed 
to rest their pretensions upon the Word of God, yet 
they kept that Word concealed from the people, and 
punished the study of it with severe penalties. Licen- 
tiousness and crime reigned in every part of the Church. 



180 CROSS AND CROWN. 

The religious houses were the centres of the grossest 
immoralities. The Pope himself was sometimes a 
doubter of the divinity of the Christ whose Yicar he 
claimed to be. He and his followers had deluged the 
world with an amount of superstition under which 
the pure truths of Christianity had almost entirely 
disappeared. They had nearly destroyed the doctrine 
of the mediatorial power of the Saviour, and for it had 
substituted the intercession of a host of saints. They 
assumed the power of forgiving sins for a pecuniary 
compensation, they urged the people to put their faith 
in wooden and marble images, which they supplied with 
ingenious machinery for shedding tears, groaning and 
grimacing, calling these impostures miracles. Instead 
of holding up the Lamb of God alone as the true object 
of adoration, they compelled the people to adore a set 
of old nails, pieces of wood, grinning skulls and hideous 
bones, to which they attributed miraculous power. In 
short, the Church of Rome was rotten to the core. It 
appeared to men to be simply a vast engine for extort- 
ing money from them, and for depriving them of their 
freedom in every relation of life. From the Pope to 
the humblest friar, it was utterly corrupt. Men 
endowed with the capacity of thinking, could not fail 
to recognize its degradation. It was no longer some- 
thing to look up to, something worthy of and compel- 
ling reverence ; it had sunk below men. It was the 
most corrupt institution in existence. It blighted every 
reform, and seemed anxious only to drive the world 



TEE HUGUENOTS. 131 

back into barbarism. The result was inevitable. 
Eeligion fell into contempt, and atheism began to pre- 
vail. 

How long this would have continued, it is impossi- 
ble to say, had it not pleased God at this time to pro- 
vide men with a means of ascertaining the truth and 
of spreading the knowledge of it. The Holy Scrip- 
tures had all this while remained in the libraries and 
monastaries of Europe, a sealed book to the masses, 
and accessible only to a privileged few, who were 
mainly interested in keeping them from the people. 
The only Bibles then in existence were manuscript 
copies, written by skilful copyists on vellum. It took 
a rapid writer ten months to copy the sacred books, 
and as but comparatively few of those who had access to 
the Bible were capable of performing this work, there 
were not many copies in existence. These copies com- 
manded immense prices. The lowest price paid for a 
Bible in France was six hundred crowns. Generally 
speaking, a Bible was worth as much as a landed 
estate, and there were many rich colleges and monas- 
teries that did not feel themselves able to purchase a 
single copy. So scarce had the holy book become that 
its language was utterly unknown to the people, and 
to the majority of the clergy and the learned men. 

It pleased God to make known at this period the art 
of printing, one of the greatest blessings He has ever 
deigned to bestow upon the world. Until the inven- 
tion of printing, the most profound thinker saw his 



182 CROSS AND CROWN. 

influence limited to his immediate circle of friends; but 
the new art made it possible for men to speak to and 
act upon the world at large. It enabled books to be 
multiplied rapidly, in such numbers, and at such mode- 
rate cost that all mankind were brought into nearer 
and more intimate relations with each other. I do not 
propose to describe the discovery or the gradual growth 
of the art, but merely to speak of the influence which 
it exercised upon the minds of men with regard to 
matters of religion. 

The early printers confined themselves chiefly to 
multiplying copies of the Bible. They found no diffi- 
culty in disposing of these at prices sufficiently high to 
compensate them for their labor. The demand was 
largely in excess of the supply, but it came from the 
learned alone, for the.se first copies were printed in the 
Latin language, which was not understood by the com- 
mon people. The effect of the study of the Scriptures 
upon these first readers was all-powerful. They at 
once found an infallible rule of life and faith, and in 
many lands men set to work simultaneously, and with- 
out concert with each other, to translate the Scrip- 
tures into the language of their respective countries. 
These translations were at once given to the public by 
the printers. In 1471 an Italian version of the Bible 
appeared. It was followed by a Bohemian version in 
1475, a Dutch version in 1477, a French version in 
1477, and a Spanish (Valencian) version in 1478. 
Thus, at the opening of the fifteenth century, the 



THE HUGUENOTS. 183 

Bible was accessible to many persons in all the princi- 
pal countries of Europe. The demand for it was very 
great. " At first it could only be read to the people ; 
and in the English cathedrals, where single copies were 
placed, chained to a niche, eager groups gathered round 
to drink in its living truths. But as the art of print- 
ing improved, and copies of the Bible became multi- 
plied in portable forms, it could then be taken home 
into the study or chamber, and read and studied in 
secret." 

We of the present day, to whom the Bible is the 
most familiar of books, can form no adequate concep- 
tion of the feverish eagerness with which the people of 
the sixteenth century turned to the Blessed Book for 
information and relief; nor can we conceive of the 
value which they set upon it. They were very sore 
from the abuses they had received at the hands of the 
Church, and they turned eagerly to the Scriptures to see 
if such things were sanctioned by the Word of God. 
Each one had a personal motive in reading the Bible, 
apart from the yearning for something better than the 
corrupt religion of Rome, which men now felt. As 
they read their doubts were confirmed, they were 
astonished, delighted. They found the teachings of 
God and His Holy Word one thing, and the claims 
and practices of the Roman Church another. The 
Bible gave no warrant for the sale of indulgences, the 
robbery of the people by the priests, the tortures 
administered by Rome to those who dared oppose her 



184 CROSS AND CROWN. 

will. It did not teach the doctrine of the supremacy 
of the Pope, the intercession of the Virgin or the 
saints, the worship of images or relics. It taught 
that each man was to be saved by his individual 
faith in the atoning blood of Christ, and his individual 
love for Christ. It condemned many practices which 
Rome insisted upon. It demanded of Christians a sin- 
cere effort to live purely and blamelessly, and set its 
face sternly against the vices which had become cha- 
racteristic of the Roman Church. In short, a perusal 
of the Scriptures satisfied men that the simple religion 
of Christ and His Apostles was a very different thing 
from the faith and practice of the Roman Church. 
The people who had walked so long in darkness at 
length saw the light — " the true Light which lighteth 
every man that cometh into the world." 

"An eager demand for the Scriptures had by this 
time sprung up in France. Several translations of 
portions of the Bible appeared there toward the end of 
the fifteenth century; but these were all superseded 
by a version of the entire Scriptures, printed at Ant- 
werp, in successive portions, between the years 1512 
and 1530. This translation was the work of Jacques 
le Fevre or Faber, of Estaples, and it formed the basis 
of all subsequent editions of the French Bible. 

" The effects were the same wherever the book ap- 
peared and was freely read by the people. It was 
followed by an immediate reaction against the super 
stition,' indifferentism, and impiety which generally 



THE HUGUENOTS. 185 

prevailed. There was a sudden awakening to a new 
religious life, and an anxious desire for a purer faith 
less overlaid by the traditions and inventions, and cor- 
ruptions which impaired the efficacy and obscured the 
simple beauty of Christianity. The invention of print- 
ing had also its political effects; and for men to be 
able to read books, and especially the Scriptures, in the 
common tongue, was itself a revolution. It roused the 
hearts of the people in all lands, producing commotion, 
excitement, and agitation. Society became electric, and 
was stirred to its depths. The sentiment of right was 
created, and the long down-trodden peasants — along the 
Rhine, in Alsace, and Suabia — raised their cries on all 
sides, demanding freedom from serfdom, and to be re- 
cognized as men." * 

The results of this general reading of the Bible were 
not long in showing themselves. The work of the 
Reformation began among the common people. The 
town of Meaux lies fifty miles to the north-east of 
Paris, and, at the time I write of, was but a short dis- 
tance from the frontier of Flanders. It was noted for 
its manufactures of woolen cloth and other mate- 
rials, and its population consisted chiefly of mechanics 
and artisans. Very few priests were to be found in 
the town, the majority of the clergy being non-resi- 
dents. Jacques le Fevre, who had translated the four 
Gospels into French, devoted himself to the spiritual 

* Smiles 's Huguenots, pp. 24, 25. 



186 CROSS AND CROWN. 

care of the people of Meaux, and was joined by Wil- 
liam Farrel, a brilliant and devoted Reformer. These 
men preached to the workingmen of Meaux, and dis- 
tributed among them copies of the Gospels for their 
own reading, and even succeeded in winning over to 
the new doctrines, as they were called, the Bishop of 
Meaux, who urged them to go on preaching to the 
people, often uniting with them himself. The effect 
was marked. A total reformation of morals and man- 
ness took place in Meaux. The licentiousness, coarse- 
ness, drunkenness, and disorder which had formerly 
prevailed in the place, disappeared as if by magic. 
The people became more industrious than ever, more 
courteous and kind to each other, neater and more 
cleanly in their habits, and more attentive to their 
religious duties. The town became noted throughout 
France for its piety and orderliness, and its example 
began to affect even distant communities. 

Nor was Meaux the only place thus changed by the 
spreading of the knowledge of the Gospels. Bernard 
Palissy has left us this picture of the change thus 
brought about in the town of Saintes, in the south-west 
of France. 

" The progress made by us was such, that in the 
course of a few years, by the time our enemies rose up 
to pillage and persecute us, lewd plays, dances, ballads, 
gormandizings, superfluities of dress and head-gear, had 
almost entirely ceased. Scarely was any bad language 
to be heard on any side, nor were there any more crimes 



THE HUGUENOTS. 187 

and scandals. Lawsuits greatly diminished; for no 
sooner had any two persons of The Religion fallen out, 
than means were found of bringing them to an agree- 
ment ; moreover, very often, before beginning any law- 
suit, the one would- not begin it before first exhorting 
the other. When the time for celebrating Easter drew 
near, many differences, discussions, and quarrels were 
thus stayed and settled. There were then no questions 
among them, but only psalms, prayers, and spiritual 
canticles ; nor was there any more desire for lewd and 
dissolute songs. Indeed, The Religion made such pro- 
gress, that even the magistrates began to prohibit things 
that had grown up under their authority. Thus they 
forbade innkeepers to permit gambling or dissipation to 
be carried on within their premises, to the enticement 
of men away from their own homes and families. 

" In those days might have been seen, on Sundays, 
bands of workpeople walking abroad in the meadows, 
the groves and the fields, singing psalms and spiritual 
songs, or reading to and instructing one another. There 
might also be seen girls and maidens seated in groups 
in the gardens and pleasant places, singing songs on 
sacred themes ; or boys accompanied by their teachers, 
the effects of whose teachings had been so salutary, that 
those young persons not only exhibited a manly bearing, 
but a manful steadfastness of conduct. Indeed, these 
various influences, working one with another, had 
already effected so much good, that not only had the 
habits and modes of life of the people been reformed, 



188 CROSS AND CROWN. 

but their very countenances themselves seemed to be 
changed and improved." 

Day by day the number of Bible readers increased, 
and day by day the work of improvement went on, 
until it seemed that France was on the eve of a great 
moral and social as well as a religious regeneration. 

Rome now took the alarm. It made but little dif- 
ference to the priests and monks that the manners and 
morals of the people were being improved. They saw 
only that their own power was at stake. The Mass 
was deserted, and their revenues were diminished. 
Their hold upon men was being loosened, and they re- 
solved to put a stop to the practices which were so 
dangerous to the Church. As soon as the news of the 
change which reading the Bible had brought about 
reached Rome, the Pope gave orders to put a stop to 
such readings, and to destroy the Bible readers. From 
that time it became the traditional policy of the Church 
of Rome to exterminate the supporters of the Reforma- 
tion in France. In 1525, Clement VII. established, or 
enlarged the Inquisition in France, conferring upon it 
" Apostolical Authority " to try and condemn heretics. 
The king, also, urged on by the clergy, became the 
enemy of the Reformed. Royal edicts were issued 
commanding the extermination of heretics in every 
part of the kingdom. 

The priests and their adherents promptly availed 
themselves of the licence thus allowed them, and be- 
gan a fierce war of extermination against the Reformed, 



THE HUGUENOTS. 189 

which was continued for many generations. Wherever 
congregations of the Reformed were found assembled 
for religious worship, they were attacked and butchered 
on the spot, or reserved for death at the stake. Neither 
age nor sex was spared, and the cruellest torments were 
inflicted upon men, women, and children, merely be- 
cause they dared to read God's Holy Word in their own 
tongue. Some were fortunate enough to escape to Hol- 
land and Switzerland, but many fell victims to the 
cruelty of Rome. 

The Bible itself came in for a large share of the anger 
of the Romanists. The Pope and the clergy denounced 
the Holy Book as the vilest of all publications, and the 
cause of all the mischief. Wherever a Bible printed 
in the common tongue was found, it was consigned to 
the flames. Men who were suspected of printing, selling, 
or circulating the Scriptures were seized and burnt. 
In Paris alone, during the first six months of the year 
1534, twenty men and one woman were burned for this 
cause. The Romanists even made war on the art of 
printing itself. They denounced it as of the devil, 
and endeavored to destroy it. The printers were every- 
where anathematized as the enemies of God and the 
Church, and were seized and murdered upon the 
slightest pretext. 

Their efforts were in vain, however. Printing had 
become a necessity to men, and it was impossible to 
destroy it. So with their attempts to keep the Bible 
from the people. The Word of God was a greater 



190 CROSS AND CROWN. 

necessity to men than the art of printing, and those 
who had become possessed of a Bible regarded it as their 
most priceless treasure. It comforted them in trial and 
adversity, and taught them a higher and a purer Chris- 
tianity than Rome had ever dreamed of. So dear was 
the sacred book to these old-time readers, that men 
risked life and fortune to obtain and preserve a copy of 
it. They were willing to fight for it, and if necessary 
to die rather than surrender it. The demand for Bibles 
increased rapidly in spite of the persecutions to which 
the readers were subjected. The creatures of the In- 
quisition and the royal officers invaded every part of 
France, and wherever they went they burned Bibles in 
great numbers. Germany, Holland, and Switzerland, 
however, were full of printing presses, and these multi- 
plied copies of the Bible and the works of Luther and 
Calvin even more rapidly than the Roman Catholics 
could destroy them. English, French, Dutch and Ger- 
man Bibles came pouring from these fruitful presses. 
The officers of the King of France watched the frontiers 
closely to see that none of these came into the kingdom, 
but in spite of their vigilance the country was flooded 
with them. Pious and daring men, in the disguise of 
pedlars, would cross the border with Bibles concealed in 
their packs or on their persons, and penetrate far into 
the interior, where they would dispose of their books 
to nobles and peasants, by each of whom the Bible was 
eagerly sought. These Bible-sellers ran a serious risk, 
for the monks and the creatures of the Inquisition were 



THE HUGUENOTS. ] 91 

constantly on the watch for them. Many were de- 
tected, and were cruelly put to death. In 1535, the 
priests of the Sorbonne in Paris obtained a decree from 
the king ordering the total suppression of printing in 
France. Their efforts to turn the world back were 
vain, however. Bibles and religious books came into 
France regularly and in great numbers, and the Re- 
formed grew stronger and more numerous every day. 
They fell in numbers in all parts of France, but their 
blood seemed to bring others to their religious standard. 
The cruellest persecutions could not control the con- 
sciences and reason of men. 

At length Rome seemed to have exhausted her perse- 
cuting energy. There was a lull in the war against the 
Reformed, and during this period they assumed the 
character of a distinct party, and became known as 
" The Huguenots," the name which they have since 
borne.* They rapidly increased in numbers, and, 
being compelled by the hostility of the king and 

* " The origin of the term Huguenot is extremely obscure. It was 
at first applied to them as a nickname, and like the Geux of Flanders, 
they assumed and bore it with pride. Some suppose the term to be 
derived from Huguon, a word used in Touraine to signify persons 
who walk at night in the streets— the early Protestants, like the 
early Christians, having chosen that time for their religious assem- 
blies. Others are of opinion that it was derived from a French and 
faulty pronunciation of the German word Eidgenossen, or Confede- 
rates, the name given to those citizens of Geneva who entered into 
an alliance with the Swiss Cantons to resist the attempts of Charles 
III., Duke of Savoy, against their liberties. The confederates were 
called Eignots, and hence, probably, the derivation of the word 
Huguenots. A third surmise is that the word was derived from one 
Hugues, the name of a Genevese Calvinist." — Smiles 's Hugueno ts, 
p. 29. 



192 CROSS AND CROWN. 

clergy to combine for their mutual safety and protec- 
tion, gradually came to be a strong party in the State, 
with definite aims and a recognised leader. So rapidly 
did they increase that some of the leading men of 
France allied themselves with them in the hope of 
augmenting their own power and influence in the State. 
Others there were, even princes of the blood, who 
became sincere converts to the Huguenot doctrines, and 
rendered good service to the cause. 

The priests and their adherents exerted themselves to 
the utmost to inflame the king against the Huguenots. 
They appealed to his bigotry and superstition, and also 
declared to him that the Reformed were becoming so 
powerful that they would surely seek to overthrow the 
throne itself. " If the secular arm," said the Cardinal 
de Lorraine to Henry II., who had succeeded his father, 
Francis I., "fails in its duty, all the malcontents will 
throw themselves into this detestable sect. They will 
first destroy the ecclesiastical power, after which it 
will be the turn of the royal power." Such arguments 
had the desired effect. The brief respite which had 
followed the death of King Francis came to an end, 
and Henry II. became a cruel persecutor of the 
Reformed. In 1559 a royal edict was published, 
declaring the crime of heresy punishable by death, and 
forbidding the judges to remit or mitigate the penalty. 
The former persecutions were instantly revived in all 
parts of France, and the monks took good care that 
the civil officers were riot remiss or lenient in the per- 



THE HUGUENOTS. 193 

formance of their dreadful duties. The last year of 
Henry's reign and the entire period of that of his suc- 
cessor, Francis II., were marked by the most dreadful 
cruelties. The Huguenots were driven from their 
churches and places of meeting, their religious edifices 
were destroyed, and they were forced to assemble at 
night in subterranean vaults, in the forests, in the 
mountains, and in caves. Those who possessed Bibles 
were obliged to conceal them with the utmost care. 
When they undertook to read them, they did so at the 
risk of their lives. In spite of the care taken to con- 
ceal their movements, they were often surprised at 
their meetings by the royal troops, and were slain on 
the spot or captured. But few of the captives escaped 
punishment. The Protestant towns of Cabrieres and 
Merindol, in the South of France, were utterly destroyed. . 
Every house was levelled to the ground, and the people 
of all ages and both sexes, were ruthlessly butchered 3 
in the streets. Four hundred women and children who 
had sought refuge in a church were killed without 
mercy in the sacred place. Twenty-live women took 
refuge in a cave. The Papal Legate kindled a fire at 
the entrance with his own hands, and smothered them 
all. An entire congregation of Protestants was cap-, 
tured in Paris. They were imprisoned in the terrible 
Chatelet, and were offered pardon and freedom if they 
would desert the Reformed faith, and go to hear the 
Mass. They unanimously refused. After a long and 

dreary imprisonment, the most prominent of the cap- 
13 



194 CROSS AND CROWN. 

tives were taken to the Place Maubert, in September, 
1558, and executed in the presence of a large and 
applauding crowd, the king himself looking on from a 
neighboring window. The tongues of the victims were 
first cut out, they were strangled, and their bodies 
burned. One of these victims was Philippa de Lunz, 
a young, beautiful, and wealthy widow of twenty-two 
years. The remainder of the prisoners were confined 
in the monasteries, but were ultimately released at the 
intercession of the Protestant Princes of Europe. The 
Pope was indignant at this, and complained bitterly 
that there were^ no more executions. 

But persecutions could not check the spread of the 
truth. The Huguenots increased in strength in spite 
of the cruel laws against them. " The spectacle of 
men and women publicly suffering death for their faith, 
expiring under the most cruel tortures rather than deny 
their convictions, attracted the attention even of the 
incredulous. Their curiosity was roused ; they desired 
to learn what there was in the forbidden Bible to 
inspire such constancy and endurance; and they too 
read the book, and in many cases became followers . of 
The Religion. The new views spread rapidly over all 
France. They not only became established in all the 
large towns, but penetrated the rural districts, more 
especially in the South and South-east of France. The 
social misery which pervaded those districts doubtless 
helped the spread of the new doctrines among the lower 
classes. But they also extended among the learned 



THE HUGUENOTS. 195 

and the wealthy. The heads of the house of Bourbon, 
Antoine, Duke of Vendome, and Louis, Prince of 
Conde, declared themselves in favor of the new views. 
The former became the husband of the celebrated 
Jeanne d'Albret, Queen of Navarre, daughter of the 
Protestant Margaret of Valois, and the latter became 
the recognized leader of the Huguenots. The head of 
the Coligni family took the same side. The Montmo- 
rencies were divided; the Constable halting between 
the two opinions, waiting to see which should prove the 
stronger ; while others of the family openly sided with 
the Reformed. Indeed it seemed at one time as if 
France were on the brink of becoming Protestant. In 
1561 the alarmed Cardinal de Sainte-Croix wrote to 
the Pope : 6 The kingdom is already half-Huguenot.' " 
The fears of the cardinal induced him to exaggerate 
the strength of the Huguenots. They were growing 
steadily, but they were still fearfully outnumbered, and 
were at the mercy of their persecutors. 

In their hours of suffering the Reformed found great 
comfort in the Psalms of Clement Marot. This good 
man translated the Psalms of David into French verse 
for the use of his persecuted countrymen, and they 
were sung in all parts of France. When the Hugue- 
nots could no longer meet together for worship they 
could sing, and oftentimes in the most public and 
crowded promenades of Paris some daring Reformer 
would sing in a clear, bold voice one of the Psalms of 
Marot, and the strain would be caught up by others 



]96 CROSS AND CROWN. 

until it rose loud and strong in a grand harmonious 
chorus. Even the Roman Catholics were not proof 
against the charm of these sacred melodies, and they 
would join with right good will in the singing. The 
king and the great nobles often came to these prome- 
nades especially to hear the Huguenot Psalms, and his 
Majesty and the members of the Court each had a 
favorite psalm. Catharine de Medicis selected : " 
Lord, rebuke me not," and the king's mistress, the 
beautiful Diana of Poitiers, chose the " De Profundis." 
The priests, from the first, regarded this singing with 
distrust, for they saw that it was but another method 
on the part of the Huguenots of expressing their reli- 
gious feelings in public, and they at length procured an 
edict forbidding the singing. A little later the sacred 
melodies were hushed in the awful cries of the day of 
St. Bartholomew, and when they were heard again they 
were raised as the battle-hymns of armies fighting for 
religious freedom. 

In 1560, Charles IX., a mere boy, came to the throne 
of France. He was king in name alone, the real power 
being exercised by his mother, Catharine de Medicis, 
of infamous memory. Catharine was one of the most 
bigoted of women, and the slave and tool of the priests. 
Hence the Roman Catholic historians have endowed 
her with all the saintly virtues. She was an unscru- 
pulous, bad woman. She was guilty of many crimes, 
and was despised even by those who fawned upon her 
most. She loved power, arid scrupled at nothing to 



THE HUGUENOTS. 197 

obtain and to retain it. She even debased and debauched 
her own children in order to render them subservient 
to her will, and as long as she lived she was a curse 
and a scourge to France. An Italian by birth and 
training, her sympathies were always with the Pope, 
and she would have utterly destroyed France, could 
she have done so, to gain but a smile of approval from 
the Holy Father. 

Charles was but ten years old at the time of his 
accession to the throne. He was too young to reign, 
and his mother was the real ruler of France. The 
country was in a dreadful state. The finances were 
exhausted, the nobles were utterly beyond the control 
of the crown, and the common people were discontented. 
Fortunately for France, Michael de l'Hopital was Chan- 
cellor of the realm. He was a man of great genius 
and incorruptible life, and he had been filled with hor- 
ror by the persecutions of the Reformed. Upon the 
assembling of the Parliament or States General, in 
December, 1560, De l'Hopital exhorted men of all 
parties to rally around the young king, condemned the 
persecutions of the previous reigns, and declared that 
henceforth there should be no distinction made between 
men of the Roman Catholic and Reformed faiths. In 
future they should be known only as Frenchmen. 
There was much opposition to these wise views on the 
part of the Roman Catholics, but in the end De l'Hopi- 
tal prevailed. A conference was held between the 
king and the Reformed leaders at Vassy, in August, 



198 CROSS AND CROWN. 

1561, and though nothing definite resulted from this 
council, the desperate condition of the royal finances 
inclined the Court party to listen to the advice of the 
Chancellor, and to refrain from persecuting the Hugue- 
nots. In January, 1562, a royal edict was issued, 
guaranteeing to the Protestants liberty of worship, 
and it seemed that the Court was on the eve of accord- 
ing justice to the Reformed. 

The Pope and the priests were resolved, however, 
that Protestantism should not secure a footing in 
France. It had already freed England, Scoland, and 
half of Germany from Papal tyranny, and the Pope 
was determined to continue the war against it in 
France. Pope Pius IY. was furious when informed of 
the conference at Yassy, and declared that Catharine 
de Medicis had betrayed him. The edict granting 
liberty of worship offended him still more, and it soon 
became understood among the Romanists that the 
Pope desired them to disregard the royal command; 
consequently the edict was not respected, and in many 
districts of France Protestant congregations were as- 
saulted and broken up by Roman Catholic mobs. The 
Crown was not strong enough to enforce its orders, and 
the Huguenots found that they were still at the mercy 
of their enemies. 

On Christmas day, 1562, a congregation of three 
thousand Huguenots assembled for religious worship 
at the town of Yassy, in the district of Champagne. 
Yassy was one of the possessions of the House of 



THE HUGUENOTS. I99 

Guise, the heads of which were the most powerful 
leaders of the Roman Catholic party. During the 
reign of Francis II., the Duke of Guise, and his 
brother, the Cardinal of Lorraine, had been the real 
rulers of France, and were the true authors of the 
barbarity with which the Reformed had been treated. 
They had been temporarily deprived of their power 
upon the death of King Francis, but they were con- 
stantly watching for an opportunity of resuming their 
influence at Court, and bringing the king and queen- 
mother under their sway. They even cherished de- 
signs upon the Crown itself. In religion they were 
fanatics, and were dreaded by the Huguenots as their 
most formidable and cruel persecutors. The old 
duchess, the mother of these princes, resided in the 
Castle of Vassy. She was furious at the idea of a 
congregation of heretics daring to assemble for worship 
so near to her home, and she complained of their 
proceedings to the Bishop of Chalons, and threatened 
the people themselves with the vengeance of her son, 
the Duke of Guise, if they dared to continue their 
meetings. The Huguenots replied that the king had 
granted them liberty of worship, and continued to 
meet in public, undismayed by the threat of the 
duchess. 

On Sunday, March 1, 1563, the Huguenot congre- 
gation assembled again for worship in a large barn at 
Vassy. They numbered about twelve hundred per- 
sons, having come in from all parts of the surrounding 



200 CROSS AND CROWN. 

country. On the previous evening the Duke of Guise, 
accompanied by his wife, and his brother, the Cardinal 
of Lorraine, had halted at Dampmarten, on their way 
to Paris, whither they were going to take part in the 
effort to destroy the Protestants. They resumed their 
march towards Vassy the next day, and as they came 
near the town, they heard a church bell ringing. 
Turning to a follower, the duke asked : " What noise 
is that?" "They are calling the Huguenots to their 
sermon," was the reply. "Huguenots! Huguenots!" 
exclaimed the duke, fiercely. " S'death ! I will hugue- 
notize them before long." He marched into the town 
at the head of his retainers, between two and three 
hundred in number and fully armed, and halted at the 
convent, where he partook of dinner, that meal being 
then eaten in the forenoon. He then marched his men 
to the barn in which the Huguenots had assembled. 
The duke's men at once began to abuse the people of 
the congregation as '" heretics, dogs, and rebels." Two 
shots were fired at persons on the platform, others 
followed, and three persons were killed and several 
wounded. The Huguenots were unarmed, and unable 
to make any resistance. They therefore endeavored to 
shut the doors of the building ; but these were broken 
open by Guise's men, who rushed in and continued 
their assault. The Huguenots replied with a volley 
of stones, one of which struck the Duke of Guise on 
the cheek, and he, smarting with the pain, called out 
to his men to put all the heretics to the sword, and 



THE HUGUENOTS. 201 

to spare none. His orders were faithfully executed. 
Fifty persons were killed on the spot, and two hundred 
were wounded, many of these hurts being mortal. 
The majority of the congregation escaped from the 
building and sought safety in flight. A number were 
overtaken and shot down in the streets of the town, 
and it is probable that very few would have escaped 
had not the younger Duchess of Guise implored her 
husband to put a stop to the massacre. 

When the killing was ended, the duke walked 
about surveying the scene. Some one handed him a 
book which had been picked up in the barn. He 
examined it curiously, having never seen anything 
like it before. Handing it to his brother, the Car- 
dinal of Lorraine, he exclaimed : " Here is one of the 
cursed Huguenot books ! " 

The cardinal glanced at it, and smiled : " There is 
not much harm in it," he said, " for it is the Bible of 
the Holy Scriptures." 

The duke was confused, but burst out angrily : 
"What! The Holy Scriptures ! It is fifteen hundred 
years since Jesus Christ suffered death and passion, 
and but one since this book has been printed. Do 
you call it the Gospel ? By God's death it is worth 
nothing." 

■"My brother is in the wrong," quietly observed the 
cardinal, as he turned away. 

The duke then sent for the local magistrate, and 
sternly reprimanded him for allowing the Huguenots 



202 CROSS AND CROWN. 

to meet in the town. The judge sheltered himself 
behind the royal edict granting liberty of worship, 
declaring that he must obey the orders of the king. 
" Detestable edict ! " exclaimed Guise, his eyes flashing 
with anger. Striking the hilt of his sword with his 
hand, he cried : " This shall soon cut it to pieces." 

The news of the massacre spread rapidly over the 
kingdom, and was everywhere received with delight 
by the Komanists. The clergy from their pulpits 
openly praised the deed, and compared it with the 
action of Moses in exterminating the worshippers of 
the Golden Calf. A fortnight after the massacre, 
Guise entered Paris, and was received in triumph. 
He was met at the St. Denis gate by the provost of 
merchants, and he rode into the city at the head of a 
body of twelve hundred gentlemen on horseback. The 
citizens received him with loud cheers, hailing him as 
the defender of the faith and the saviour of the coun- 
try. All Catholic France prepared to rise against the 
Huguenots. The queen-mother, foreseeing the storm, 
and being herself unfriendly to the Guises, endeavored 
to escape with the king from Paris, but was followed 
by the duke and an armed force, and though no out- 
ward violence was used, she was compelled to return 
with the king to the Louvre. From that time until 
his death, Guise was master of France. 

The Roman Catholics now rose against the Hugue- 
nots all over France. The latter, having relied upon 
the royal edict for protection, were unprepared for 



THE HUGUENOTS. 203 

resistance, and the most dreadful massacres followed. 
At Paris, at Senlis, at Amiens, at Meaux, at Chalons, 
at Troyes, at Bar-sur-Seine, at Epernay, at Nevers, 
at Mans, at Angers, at Blois, and many other places, 
Huguenot blood flowed like water. At Tours the dead 
were so nun^erous that the banks of the Loire were 
covered with the corpses of men, women, and children. 
In Provence the Reformed were subjected to the most 
terrible tortures before being put to death. Thousands 
of them perished in various parts of France. Wherever 
these scenes of carnage occurred, the priests and monks 
were found foremost and most merciless in the dreadful 
work. When others were content to spare, they for- 
bade mercy, and preached extermination as a religious 
duty. 

The Huguenots had been taken by surprise, and 
were at first unprepared to resist; but at length, the 
leaders being convinced that they must take up arms 
if they would save their own lives and those of their 
brethren, the Prince of Conde and the Admiral de 
Coligni took the field. Until now the Huguenots had 
been good subjects of the king, and had entertained no 
thought of rebelling against him ; but now that they 
were brought face to face with the real policy of the 
Roman Catholic Church, they had no alternative but to 
resist or to abandon their religion. A bloody civil war 
ensued, in which the Duke of Guise and the Prince of 
Conde were both killed. The former was assassinated 
and the latter was shot after his surrender to the royal 



204 OR OSS AND CR WN. 

forces at Jarnac. The war lasted ten years, and 
France was desolated and torn to pieces. The industry 
of the nation was almost destroyed ; the factories were 
closed, and the burdens of the people were greatly 
multiplied. Both sides had good cause to regret the 
war, for the Huguenots frequently repaidj}heir adversa- 
ries in their own coin, and meted out cruelty to them 
unsparingly. Frequent truces were made, and the 
leaders on both sides would have made peace without 
any hesitation, from a very early period in the struggle. 
Even Catharine herself would have granted religious 
toleration had she been free to do so, so heartily did 
she desire peace. But the Pope and the Italian faction 
cared nothing for the sufferings of France. They were 
willing that that unhappy land should be blotted from 
the face of the earth if they could only destroy Pro- 
testantism with it. They had brought on the civil war, 
and they bitterly opposed all efforts to bring it to a 
close upon any other condition than the absolute sub- 
mission and recantation of the Huguenots. Pius IV. 
and V. would hear no whisper of mercy. They were 
naturally cruel, and they took a savage delight in the 
tales of horror that came to them from France. The 
groans of the dying and tortured Huguenots were as 
music to their ears, and they spared no means in their 
power to increase the sufferings of the unhappy king- 
dom. 

At length, however, not even the influence and 
power of the Pope could keep alive the war. Both 










B=gJ 



o 

y — 

< 

(LjlJ 



# •" -m 111, 



THE HUGUENOTS. 205 

sides had exhausted themselves too much to continue 
the struggle, and peace had become a necessity. The 
country was in no condition to support either army ; 
and although Coligny, the Huguenot leader, had been 
able to collect reenforcements to an extent sufficient to 
enable him to threaten Paris, it was plain that a cessa- 
tion of the war would be more to the interests of the 
Huguenots than the capture of the metropolis. Catha- 
rine and the Pope found themselves mastered by cir- 
cumstances, and the former was forced to consent to 
terms which were excessively repugnant to her. A 
treaty was signed at St. Germains in 1570, by which 
liberty of worship was guaranteed to the Protestants. 
They were accorded equality before the law, the 
universities were thrown open to them, aud the four 
principal towns of Eochelle, Montauban, Cognac, and 
La Charite were given up to them as pledges for the 
execution of the treaty. These terms were not granted 
willingly by Catharine, but she could not help herself. 
The Huguenot leaders would accept no other. They 
were willing to fight to the death, to endure any sacri- 
fices for their religion, and the queen was not able to 
carry on the war. 

Catharine consented to the treaty merely to gain 
time. She had now become a sincere ally of the 
Guises, and had fully determined sooner or later to 
strike a crushing blow at the Huguenots and utterly 
destroy them. For the present, however, she exerted 
herself to carry out the terms of the treaty, and to 



206 CROSS AND CROWN. 

lull the Protestants into a false sense of security. She 
was outwardly very friendly to them, and declared that 
her dearest wish was to heal the religious dissensions 
of the country, and do justice to all the subjects of the 
king. She succeeded so well in this that she partially 
disarmed the suspicions of the Huguenots, and even 
induced the Pope himself to believe that she meant to 
do justice to the Protestants, and thus drew upon her- 
self the disfavor of the Pontiff. In secret, however, 
she was concerting measures with the bigoted Philip 
II. of Spain to destroy Protestantism in France by the 
aid of the Spanish army, and she sent private messages 
to the Pope assuring him that she would yet prove her- 
self a true daughter of the Church. Philip urged her 
to lose no time in destroying the heretics, and to strike 
at them at once, promising her the assistance of his 
army. Catharine assured the Duke of Alva, the mes- 
senger of the Spanish King, that she was as desirous as 
his Catholic majesty of destroying the Reformed party, 
but that it was necessary to temporize for the present. 
About this time she received a powerful assistance in 
carrying out her plans. In 1540 the Order of the 
Jesuits which had been organized by Ignatius Loyola, 
a fanatical Spanish "soldier and monk, was formally 
recognized by the Pope, and established at Rome. 
" Under the Jesuits, the Romish Church, reorganized 
and redisciplined, became one of the most complete of 
spiritual machines. They enjoined implicit obedience 
and submission. Against liberty, they set up authority. 



THE HUGUENOTS. 207 

To them the individual was nothing, the Order every- 
thing. They were vigilant sentinels, watching night 
and day over the interests of Eome. One of the first 
works to which they applied themselves was the extir- 
pation of the heretics who had strayed from her fold. 
The principal instrument which they employed with 
this object was the Inquisition ; and wherever they 
succeeded in establishing themselves that institution 
was set up, or was armed with fresh powers. They 
tolerated no half measures. They were unsparing and 
unpitying ; and whenever a heretic was brought before 
them, and they had the power to deal with him, he 
must recant or die. 

" The first great field in which the Jesuits put forth 
their new-born strength was Flanders, which then 
formed part of the possessions of Spain. The pro- 
vinces of the Netherlands had reached the summit 
of commercial and manufacturing prosperity. They 
were inhabited by a hardworking, intelligent, and 
enterprising people — great as artists and merchants, 
painters and printers, architects and iron workers — as 
the decayed glories of Antwerp, Bruges and Ghent 
testify to this day. Although the two latter cities 
never completely recovered from the injuries inflicted 
on them by the tyranny of the trades-unions, there 
were numerous other towns, where industry had been 
left comparatively free, in which the arts of peace were 
cultivated in security. Under the mild sway of the 
Burgundian Dukes, Antwerp became the centre of the 



208 CROSS AND CROWN. 

commerce of Northern Europe ; and more business is 
said to have been done there in a month than at Venice 
in two years when at the summit of its grandeur. 
About the year 1550 it was no uncommon sight to see 
as many as 2500 ships in the Scheldt, laden with mer- 
chandise for all parts of the world. 

''" Such was the prosperity of Flanders, and such the 
greatness of Antwerp, when Philip II. of Spain suc- 
ceeded to the rich inheritance of Burgundy on the 
resignation of Charles V. in the year 1556. Had his 
subjects been of the same mind with himself in reli- 
gious matters, Philip might have escaped the infamy 
which attaches to his name. But a large proportion of 
the most skilled and industrious people in the Nether- 
lands had imbibed the new ideas as to a reform in reli- 
gion which had swept over Northern Europe. They 
had read the newly translated Bible with avidity ; they 
had formed themselves into religious communities, and 
appointed preachers of their own ; in a word, they 
were Protestants. 

" Philip had scarcely succeeded to the Spanish throne 
than he ordered a branch of the Inquisition to be set 
up in Flanders, with Cardinal Grenvelle as Inquisitor 
General. The institution excited great opposition 
among all classes, Catholic as well as Protestant ; 
and it was shortly followed by hostility and resistance, 
which eventually culminated in civil war. Sir Thomas 
Gresham, writing to Cecil from Antwerp, in 1566, 
said : ' There are above 40,000 Protestants in this 



THE HUGUENOTS. 209 

town which will die rather than the Word of God 
should be put to silence.' 

" The struggle which now began was alike fierce and 
determined on both sides, and extended over many 
years. The powerful armies which the king directed 
against his revolted subjects were led by able generals, 
by the Duke of Alva, by Alexander Farnese, Prince of 
Parma, and many more ; and although they did not 
succeed in establishing the Inquisition in the Nether- 
lands, they succeeded in either exterminating or ban- 
ishing the greater part of the Protestants south of the 
Scheldt, at the same time that they ruined the indus- 
try of Flanders, destroyed its trade, and reduced the 
Catholics themselves to beggary. Bruges and Ghent 
became crowded with thieves and paupers. The busy 
quays of Antwerp were deserted, and its industrious 
artisans, tradesmen, and merchants fled from the place, 
leaving their property behind them a prey to the 
spoiler. 

u The Duke of Alva carried on this frightful war of 
extermination and persecution for six years, during 
which he boasted that he had sent 18,000 persons to 
the scaffold, besides the immense numbers destroyed in 
battles and sieges, and in the unrecorded acts of cruelty 
perpetrated on the peasantry by the Spanish soldiery. 
Philip heard of the depopulation and ruin of his pro- 
vinces without regret ; and though Alva was recalled, 
the war was carried on with increased fury by the 
generals who succeeded him. What mainly comforted 

14 



210 CROSS AND CROWN. 

Philip was, that the people who remained were at 
length becoming terrified into orthodoxy. The eccle- 
siastics assured the Duke of Parma, the Governor, that 
notwithstanding the depopulation of the provinces, 
more people were coming to them for confession and 
absolution at the last Easter than had ever come since 
the beginning of the revolt." * 

The Jesuits had been the leading spirits in these 
terrible deeds in Flanders, and they were prepared to 
repeat their course in any country that refused uncon- 
ditional submission to Eome. They were introduced 
into France soon after their formal recognition by the 
Pope, and, under the patronage and protection of the 
Cardinal de Lorraine, they soon obtained a firm foot- 
hold in the kingdom to which they have been ever 
since a curse and a scourge. They proved ready and 
powerful assistants in Catharine's infamous plot against 
the Reformed, and entered heartily into her plan. How 
much of the affair was devised by Catharine, and how 
much by the Jesuits, it is impossible to say, but we may 
safely suppose that the queen-mother had shrewd coun- 
sellors from the ranks of the order, and we know that 
the Jesuit Fathers spared no means of winning the 
king and people over to the terrible scheme when it was 
fairly resolved upon. 

The treaty of 1570 gave France a breathing spell 
of nearly two years, as it was scrupulously respected 
by both parties. The king and the queen-mother pro- 

* Smiles' s Huguenots, pp. 60-63. 



THE HUGUENOTS. 211 

tected the Protestants in the free exercise of their re- 
ligion, and the country showed signs of recovering from 
the civil war. The Pope looked on with open disfavor. 
Nothing but the death or conversion of the last Hugue- 
not would satisfy him. 

Catharine now proposed that, in order to cement the 
new bonds between the religious parties in the king- 
dom, her daughter, Marguerite de Valois, should wed 
Henry of Beam, the young King of Navarre, and re- 
cognized leader of the Huguenots. The mother of 
Henry had reared her son in the strictest school of the 
Reformed faith, believing that he would one day be 
called upon to place himself at the head of his perse- 
cuted countrymen, and at first received Catharine's 
proposal with distrust. The Admiral de Coligni and 
some other Huguenots, however, regarded it with favor, 
and, though they had not much faith in Catharine's 
friendship for their party, believed that the proposed 
marriage might be of benefit to the country, and, at 
length, the Queen of Navarre was brought to take the 
same view of the matter. The consent of all parties 
being obtained, there remained but one difficulty in 
the way. Henry of Navarre was a Protestant and 
Marguerite was a Catholic. Between such a pair no 
priest of the Church of Rome could celebrate a marriage 
without a special dispensation from the Pope. Pious 
V. was at once applied to for such a dispensation, but 
he refused it. Charles IX. declared that if the Pope 
would not consent to the marriage, he would have his 



212 CROSS AND CROWN. 

sister married in "open conventicle," by a Huguenot 
preacher. Catharine solved the difficulty by forging a 
dispensation in the name of the Pontiff. * 

Everything being prepared, the king and the queen- 
mother invited the Huguenot leaders to come up to 
Paris and take part in the festivities which were to 
mark the occasion. Some were distrustful of the dark 
woman, and excused themselves from going to the 
capital. Others, more trusting, could not believe that 
the King of France would allow harm to befall them 
on such an occasion, and great numbers, including the 
heroic Queen of Navarre, hastened to Paris, where they 
were welcomed by the Court. The Queen of Navarre 
reached Paris about the first of May. Catharine pro- 
fessed the greatest delight at her arrival ; but on the 9th 
of May, the Queen of Navarre died suddenly. The 
Roman Catholic historian Davila, says : " The first 
stroke of this execution was lanced against the Queen 
of Navarre, who, on account of her sex and royal con- 
dition, was poisoned, as it is thought, by means of cer- 
tain gloves which were presented to her, the poison of 
which was so subtile, that very soon after she had 
handled them, she was seized with a violent fever, of 
which she died four days afterwards. Her death, so 
sudden and unexpected, caused suspicions among the 
Huguenots ; and the king, who knew that the force of 
the poison had affected the brain alone, ordered the 

* Smiles's Huguenots, p. 64. 



THE HUGUENOTS. 213 

body to be opened, which was found perfect ; but they 
did not touch the head under pretence of humanity ; 
and on the testimony of those of the profession, the re- 
port circulated that she died a natural death through 
the malignity of the fever." 

The death of the Queen of Navarre delayed the mar- 
riage for some time. Her son succeeded formally to 
her crown, and a few weeks later set out for Paris, 
where he arrived about the 1st of August, accompanied 
by a noble retinue of gentlemen, among whom was his 
cousin, the Prince of Conde. Navarre and Conde were 
warmly welcomed by the king, and were lodged in the 
Palace of the Louvre, in which the Court was then re- 
siding. Some time previous to this, the Admiral de 
Coligni had reached the capital with his followers, and 
had taken lodgings in the street of Bresse, not far from 
the palace. The King of France received the admiral 
with the greatest honor, called him his father, and as- 
sured him of his desire to be guided by his advice in 
the settlement of the national troubles. His object was 
to deceive the veteran soldier and statesman, and to lull 
his suspicions, if he had any. He was entirely suc- 
cessful. The generous Huguenot could not bring him- 
self to doubt the sincerity of his sovereign, and he 
embraced with, eagerness what he believed was a 
chance for repairing the damages done by the war. 

During the first fortnight in August, the Huguenots 
came up to Paris in great numbers, brilliant and gallant 
gentlemen and beautiful ladies, and warriors who had 



214 CROSS AND CROWN, 

proved themselves brave men and able soldiers on many 
a stubborn field, trusting in the honor of the King of 
France. Some, indeed, were suspicious of the coining 
harm, for notwithstanding the profuse hospitalities and 
welcomes of the Court and the nobles, the Protestant 
leaders could not shut their eyes to the fact that the 
citizens of Paris were bitterly hostile to them. Kevels 
and feasts were given in great numbers by the king and 
queen and the great nobles, at which every Huguenot 
was welcomed with delight ; but the people were cold 
and stern in their treatment of the Reformed. The 
priests had been busy among them, impressing upon 
them the duty of exterminating the Huguenots, and as- 
suring them that they would soon have an opportunity 
of performing this duty ; and the priests had done their 
work so well, that it needed but a word from some 
Catholic leader of influence to raise the whole city 
against the Reformed. Some of the Huguenot leaders 
went to Coligni, and informed him of their fears, and 
begged him to leave the city at once. The admiral, 
still trusting in the faith of the king, laughed at them, 
and urged them to stay with him until the wedding 
festivities were over. 

On the 18th of August 1572, the marriage was cele- 
brated with great pomp at the Cathedral of Notre 
Dame. Henry was nineteen years old, handsome, gene- 
rous, witty, and manly, in every way a worthy husband 
for so fair a bride. Marguerite was near the same age, 
and was beautiful and accomplished. Both were mag- 



THE HUGUENOTS. 215 

nificently attired, and each was greeted with cheers by 
the citizens, some of whom forgot their religious hatred 
in their enjoyment of the gay spectacle. . A handsome 
pavilion had been erected in the front of the cathedral, 
and around it were gathered the King and Queen of 
France, the queen-mother, the great dignitaries of the 
Church of Rome, and the nobles and gentry of France, 
both Huguenot and Roman Catholic, and an immense 
concourse of people. Cannon boomed, bells rang out 
from every steeple, and banners floated upon the soft 
summer breeze. The marriage was performed with 
great ceremony, and then Henry led his bride into the 
cathedral to hear Mass. He immediately withdrew 
with Conde, Coligni, and the other lords, and walked 
up and down the open space near the church until 
Mass was done. Then the entire party repaired to the 
palace of the Archbishop of Paris, where a grand 
dinner was served; 

The marriage was followed by several days of revelry 
and feasting at the Louvre. Catharine and the Roman 
Catholic leaders were resolved that there should be no 
indication of their real design until all was in readiness 
for the fatal blow, and they showered the rarest of 
pleasures upon their doomed guests. Meanwhile they 
proceeded rapidly with their preparations for their blow 
at the Huguenots. Orders were sent to the Governor 
of Lyons not to . allow the messenger who bore the 
tidings of the marriage to proceed on his way to 
Rome until the 24th of August. On the day after the 



216 CROSS AND CROWN. 

marriage a secret council was held at the Louvre, at 
which the final arrangements for the dreadful enterprise 
were perfected. Charles IX. was a weak-minded, indo- 
lent king, entirely subject to the will of his unprinci- 
pled mother. He entered into the plan of exterminating 
the Huguenots w r ith extreme reluctance, for he had 
conceived a genuine respect and admiration for Coligni. 
Catharine, the Duke of Guise, and the priests urged 
him by every means in their power to give his sanc- 
tion to their scheme. They brought to him false stories 
of the admiral's hostility to him, and so inflamed him 
against the Keformed that he not only gave his consent 
to the plan of Catharine and the Jesuits, but declared 
he would give 50,000 crowns to any one who would kill 
Coligni. The queen-mother and her friends were in 
high glee, and resolved to strike the blow before the 
king could change his mind. Charles, it seems, had 
made this offer more in a fit of rage than in earnest, 
and the queen-mother, aware of this, resolved to com- 
mit him to the scheme at once. The Duke of Guise 
was summoned, and he obtained a man willing to 
assassinate the admiral. This ruffian, on the 22nd of 
August, concealed himself in a house near the admi- 
ral's lodgings, and fired upon him as he was returning 
from the presence of the king. Coligni was struck 
with two balls, one of which carried away one of his 
fingers, the other struck him in the arm. Some of his 
attendants conveyed him to his hotel, while others 
broke into the house from which the shots had been 



THE HUGUENOTS. 217 

fired, and though they could not prevent the escape of 
the assassin, they obtained convincing proofs that he 
had been employed to do his work by the queen- 
mother and the Duke of Guise. 

The news of the attempted murder of Coligni startled 
the Huguenots from their fancied security, and they 
came in great numbers to the quarters of the admiral, 
both to defend him from further harm, and to concert 
measures for their mutual safety. They were thor- 
oughly alarmed, and were convinced that this was but 
the beginning of an attempt to ruin their entire party. 
Charles IX. was at once informed of the attempt on 
Coligni's life, and professed to be very much incensed 
thereat. He sent the admiral word that he was com- 
ing to see him, and the same afternoon paid him a visit. 
Catharine accompanied him, as did also his brother, 
the Duke of Anjou; they fearing that Coligni might 
by his manly and noble conversation entirely alienate 
the king from their scheme. They passed to the 
admiral's chamber through apartments filled with 
Huguenot gentlemen who had gathered there for their 
leader's protection, and the countenances of these stern 
men plainly showed the plotters that their intended 
victims suspected the truth. Charles was deeply im- 
pressed by the admiral's language, and assured him of 
his grief and indignation at the cowardly assault upon 
him, and of his determination to find out and punish 
the guilty parties. Catharine, fearing the effect of the 
admiral's words, hurried the king away, and Charles 



218 CROSS AND CROWN. 

went back to the Louvre more than half resolved to be 
a king indeed and do justice to his subjects. 

The King of Navarre and the Prince of Conde 
waited upon Charles, and asked permission to leave the 
city, as their lives were not safe in Paris. The king, 
irresolute, begged them to remain, assuring them that 
no harm should befall them. The Huguenot gentry 
gathered in the house of Coligni and the chamber of 
the King of Navarre. Could they have carried the 
admiral with them, they would have left the city on 
the 23rd of August, but the surgeon, a Huguenot, 
declared that to move the sufferer would be fatal. They 
contented themselves with sending a deputation to the 
king to ask for justice, and guarding their leaders with 
increased vigilance. 

" The day after the attempt to kill Coligni was a 
dreadful interval for the king and his mother. His 
conduct from the first displayed all the irresolution and 
want of thought which accompanies crime. In his 
eagerness to deceive the King of Navarre, he had 
appointed persons to investigate the assassination ; the 
information which they procured caused in turn still 
greater uneasiness. It was impossible to prevent Mau T 
revel's (the assassin) employers from being known, and 
a council was summoned at the Louvre • the behaviour 
of Charles IX. at this council was consistent with the 
rest of his actions. As he approached the fatal mo- 
ment, his conscience appears to have assailed him, and 
he hesitated to carry the plan into effect. The queen 



THE HUG UENOTS. 21 9 

entreated him to take firm measures to preserve her 
and the Duke of Anjou from the vengeance of the 
Huguenots, who already accused them of the assassina- 
tion of Coligni. De Retz told the king that such was 
the irritated state of the Protestants, that he, as well 
as Guise, would be sacrificed to their vengeance. Soon 
after intelligence was brought that the Huguenots were 
preparing to carry Coligni out of Paris ; if he should 
escape, their whole design would be frustrated, and a 
civil war become unavoidable ; especially as the Hugue- 
nots had threatened to rise en masse to obtain justice. 
Catharine perceived the wavering state of her son's 
mind ; she informed him that couriers ha<J already been 
sent off to Germany and Switzerland for troops, and 
that, in the unprovided state of the Government, his 
ruin was certain if another war broke out. The 
wretched king, whose mind was so framed that he 
blindly followed the impulse of the moment, and who 
the minute before had felt a repugnance to consent to 
the death of so many subjects, was then so much 
inflamed by the solicitations and assertions of his coun- 
cillors, that he experienced all the anger which could 
be called into action by a recollection of the past, a 
dread of the future, and the vexation of failing in an 
attempt to punish the leaders of the sect so hateful to 
him. He became more eager than any to execute the 
resolution, already tahen in secret council, to make a 
general massacre of the Huguenots. This could not 
safely be deferred any longer, as some of them were 



220 CROSS AND CROWN. 

quitting Paris every hour, and the dawn of the next 
morning was to behold the consummation of this inhu- 
man scene. 

" At first there was no exception whatever from the 
massacre, and Charles consented to destroy one branch 
of his own family : ( It was deliberated/ says the Arch- 
bishop of Paris, ' if they should not murder the King 
of Navarre and the Prince of Conde with the others, 
and all the murderers were for their death ; neverthe- 
less, by a miracle, they resolved on sparing them/ 
c The Duke of Guise,' says Davila, ' wished that in 
killing the Huguenots they should do the same with 
the King of Navarre and the Prince of Conde ; but the 
queen-mother and the others had a' horror of dipping 
their hands in royal blood.' c Indubitably,' says Bran- 
tome, 'he was proscribed, and set down on the red list, 
as they called it ; because, said they, it was necessary 
to dig up the roots, such as the King of Navarre, the 
Prince of Conde, the admiral, and other great persons.' 
It was also proposed to kill the Montmorencies, who, 
although Catholics, were very much connected with the 
Huguenots ; but the marshal could not be drawn from 
Chantilly, and was beyond their reach; so the council 
concluded that to destroy the younger branch and leave 
the elder to revenge their death, would only increase 
the chances of a civil war. De Retz, however, main- 
tained that they should all be killed." 

The 23rd of August was passed by the queen-mother 
and her supporters in maturing their plot. It was 



THE HUGUENOTS. 221 

agreed that the great bell of the palace should sound 
the signal, and that as soon as this was done bands of 
armed Romanists should fall upon the Protestants and 
put them to death, without respect to age or sex, the 
object being to destroy every Huguenot in Paris. The 
admiral was to be killed first. The public arms in the 
Hotel de Ville and the royal arsenals were distributed 
among the Roman Catholic citizens, and the priests 
did good work in preparing them to use these weapons. 
The Royal Guard was increased by bringing reinforce- 
ments from the suburbs, and was held in readiness to 
assist in the murders. The Catholics were to be distin- 
guished by wearing white scarfs around their left arms, 
and white crosses on the front of their hats. 

During the afternoon of the 23rd, the king rode 
through the streets of Paris accompanied by the Cheva- 
lier d'Angouleme; and the queen-mother, to disarm 
suspicion, held her court as usual. Neither gave any 
outward indication of the dreadful crime they had in 
contemplation. 

During the day the city was much excited. The 
Huguenots carefully remained in doors, their appear- 
ance in the streets being attended with considerable 
risk to them. They maintained their watch over the 
King of Navarre and the admiral, and by thus collect- 
ing at these two points unconsciously facilitated the 
plans of their enemies. " It is strange," says White, 
" that the arrangements in the city, which must have 
been attended with no little commotion, did not rouse 



222 CROSS AND CROWN. 

the suspicions of the Huguenots. Probably, in their 
blind confidence, they trusted implicitly in the king's 
word that these movements of arms and artillery, these 
postings of guards and midnight musters were intended 
to keep the Guisian faction in order." 

Paris was not then, as now, a city of broad streets 
and handsome public squares. Its thoroughfares were 
narrow and crooked, the houses were high and as a 
rule not well built, and there was scarcely a distance 
of a hundred yards but could be held against all comers 
by those first gaining possession of the street. All 
through the 23rd of August, the Roman Catholic 
leaders were busy posting their forces in commanding 
positions, and in preparing the citizens to make common 
cause with them against the detested Huguenots. 

The day wore away, and the sultry August night 
came on. A deep and unusual stillness hung over the 
city, broken only by the heavy tread of armed men as 
they inarched to the positions assigned them. The 
King of Navarre kept his apartments at the Louvre, 
surrounded by a large number of his friends and adhe- 
rents. All were suspicious, and when the captain of 
the Royal Guard came to warn those who wished to 
leave the Palace to do so, as the gates were about to be 
closed for the night, no one stirred from his place. 
The admiral's house had been furnished with a guard 
by the King of France, and the Huguenots had some- 
what relaxed their vigilance there, and had nearly all 
departed for their lodgings. The famous surgeon 



THE HUGUENOTS. 223 

Ambrose Pare, the king's medical attendant, and the 
admiral's chaplain, remained to watch over the suf- 
ferer, and towards morning Coligni fell into a heavy 
slumber. 

A little after midnight the queen-mother rose from 
her bed, and went to the king's chamber. She was 
attended only by the Duchess of Nemours, one of the 
most bloodthirsty of the conspirators. Charles was 
pacing his room in the deepest agitation and uncer- 
tainty. Too weak to form and maintain a resolution 
either for or against the massacre, he shrank from 
giving the signal for so much violence. He swore 
fiercely at one moment that he would call on the 
Huguenots to protect him against his own family, and 
the next moment he burst out into a torrent of 
reproaches against his brother, the Duke of Anjou, who 
had entered the room, but who did not dare to reply. 
In a little while, the remaining leaders of the plot, 
Guise, Nevers, Birague, De Retz, and Tavannes, entered 
the room. They were greatly embarrassed by the 
king's irresolution. Catharine alone was equal to the 
emergency. Assuming a sternness which she knew 
would subdue her weak minded son, she exclaimed : 
" It is too late to retreat, even were it possible. We 
must cut off the rotten limb, hurt it ever so much. If 
you delay, you will lose the finest opportunity God ever 
gave man of getting rid of His enemies at a blow." 
Then she added in a low tone, as if speaking to herself, 
" Mercy would be cruel to them, and cruelty merciful." 



224 CROSS AND CROWN. 

The stern and determined manner of his mother sub- 
dued the king, and he hastily gave the order to begin 
the bloody work. The Duke of Guise, resolved that 
he should have no time to repent, at once hurried from 
the apartment, and a few minutes later set out from the 
Louvre at the head of a strong force of the Guard. His 
first duty was to despatch the admiral. 

Coligni had fallen into a heavy sleep, feeling secure 
in the protection of the guard which Charles had 
placed over his house, and the surgeon dozed in his 
great chair by the bedside. A deep silence reigned 
throughout the house. The night passed wearily away. 
Between three and four o'clock on the morning of 
August 24th, a heavy and rapid tramping was heard 
in the street without. It was followed by a loud knock- 
ing at the gate, and the imperious command to " Open, 
in the king's name." La Bonne, supposing it to be a 
message from the Louvre, at once drew back the bolt, 
and was killed on the spot by the assassins, who rushed 
into the house. The domestics made a feeble effort to 
bar the entrance, but were unsuccessful, and were nearly 
all killed by the guard. The admiral was awakened 
by the uproar, and at once supposed that his enemy, 
the Duke of Guise, had attacked the house. He made 
his attendants lift him from his bed. Then wrapping 
his robe de chambre about him, he sat down to await 
the arrival of his assassins. Cornaton now rushed into 
the room, and the surgeon asked him the meaning of 
the noise. Turning to the admiral, he replied in a 



THE HUGUENOTS. ' 225 

voice of great emotion : " Sir, it is God calling us to 
himself. They have broken into the house, and we 
can do nothing." 

" I have long been prepared to die/' said Coligni ; 
" but you must all flee for your lives, if it be not too 
late ; you cannot save me ; I commit my soul to God's 
mercy." 

The attendants at once left the room, leaving the 
admiral alone with the surgeon, Ambrose Pare, who 
would not desert him. Only two of the attendants suc- 
ceeded in making their escape over the adjoining 
roofs. 

The admiral and the surgeon, calm and silent, re- 
mained in the chamber. The noise and trampling on 
the stairs and in the ante-rooms increased, and in a few 
moments the door was dashed in, and the murderers,, 
headed by Cosseins and Behm, sprang into the room. 
They had expected to meet with resistance, and paused 
involuntarily at the sight of the two unarmed men be- 
fore them. Coligni had risen to his feet, and was 
standing confronting them sternly. Behm, a powerful 
German soldier, was the first to recover his self-posses- 
sion. Pointing his sword to the admiral's breast, he 
asked : " Are you not Coligni ? " 

" I am," replied the heroic old man ; " but, young 

man, you should respect my gray hairs, and not attack 

a wounded man. Yet, what matters it ? You cannot 

shorten my life except by God's permission." 

Behm answered him with a blasphemous oath, and 
15 



226 CROSS AND CROW XT. 

plunged his sword into the admiral's breast. Others 
also struck him, and the martyr fell to the floor. Behm 
now ran to the window, and shouted to the Duke of 
Guise, who was waiting impatiently in the courtyard 
below : " It is all over." The duke called to him : 
" Monsieur d'Angouleme will not believe it unless he 
sees him." The murderer at once raised the body from 
the ground, and bore it to the window. The admiral 
was not quite dead, and made a faint effort at resistance. 
" Is it so, old fox ? " cried Behm. Then drawing his 
dagger, he stabbed the dying admiral several times, 
and tossed the body through the window to the pave- 
ment below. It was so mutilated and covered with 
blood that it could scarcely be recognized. The Bastard 
of Angouleme stooped down, and wiped the blood from 
the face. Guise glanced at the corpse, and gave the 
body a kick, exclaiming brutally, " Yes, it is he, I know 
him well." Then turning to his followers, who came 
pouring out of the house, he cried, " Well done, my 
men ! We have made a good beginning. Forward — 
by the king's command." Then mounting his horse 
he led his men to repeat their work elsewhere. The 
admiral's head was cut off, and carried to the Louvre. 
When Guise left the presence of the king, the con- 
spirators, afraid to separate, repaired to a room over- 
looking the Place Bassecour, and taking their stations 
by a window, listened anxiously for the sounds which 
should tell them that the attack on the admiral's house 
.had begun. Charles was overwhelmed with agitation, 



THE HUGUENOTS. 227 

and more than once seemed on the point of relenting. 
Suddenly a pistol shot was heard in a neighboring 
street, and the king, terrified by the sound, hastily 
summoned a messenger, and sent him to the Duke of 
Guise with orders to desist from his attempt. In a 
little while the man returned with this message from 
the duke : " It is too late. The admiral is dead." 
The agitation of the king now increased, and Catharine, 
fearing that Guise's disobedience would enrage the king, 
and cause still further embarrassment, resolved to com- 
mit her son so deeply that he could not withdraw. It 
had been agreed that the massacre should begin at the 
sound of the matin bell from the palace, but she decided 
to anticipate the signal, and at once sent orders to the 
priests of St. Germain l'Auxerrois, immediately oppo- 
site the Louvre, to sound the signal from the bell of 
that church. We may imagine the joy with which the 
ecclesiastics obeyed her order. 

As the hoarse tones of the huge bell came rolling 
out of the great tower, ushering in the dreadful day 
of St. Bartholomew, there was a pause, and then from 
every belfry in the city the infernal signal was caught 
up and repeated, proving beyond doubt that the mas- 
sacre was premeditated. Paris, until now so silent and 
peaceful, became, as if by magic, full of confusion and 
strife. Lights gleamed from every house, and torches 
lit up the darkness of every street. In a marvellously 
short space of time, the streets were filled with men 
bearing arms in their hands, and white crosses on their 



228 CROSS AND CROWN. 

hats. On every side resounded the crashing of musketry, 
the falling of doorways beneath the heavy blows dealt 
them, the shouts of the mob thus suddenly turned into 
savages, and the groans and cries of their victims, while 
high over all rose the hoarse clanging of the church 
bells, which the priests rang to stimulate the people to 
their work. It seemed as if a legion of devils had 
been suddenly turned into the quaint old streets. The 
priests were everywhere among the mob, urging them 
to kill without mercy, and steeling their hearts against 
the appeals of their victims. Even women took part 
in the dreadful carnage, and, forgetting their sex, be- 
came the cruellest of the cruel. As the sun rose red 
and struggling with the light of the torches, his rays 
revealed a scene which has rarely been equalled in 
horror in the history of the world. As the awful 
sounds of the massacre reached the ears of Charles IX., 
the last feeling of humanity died out of his heart. 

Within the walls of the Louvre itself, and within 
the hearing of the king and his mother, occurred one 
of the foulest incidents of the bloody work of the day. 
Early in the morning the King of Navarre left his 
apartments, accompanied by the Huguenot gentlemen 
who had kept watch over him during the night, to 
seek the presence of the King of France, to demand 
justice for the assault on the admiral. They were all 
in ignorance of the dreadful work that was going on 
outside, and were not a little surprised when, at the 
foot of the stairway leading to the courtyard, they 



TEE HUGUENOTS. 229 

were halted in the king's name. The King of Navarre 
was arrested by the Koyal Guard, and his attendants 
were at once disarmed, without any effort at resistance 
on their part. A list of Navarre's attendants had been 
carefully made out. An officer of the Guard called out 
the names one by one, and as each gentleman answered 
to his name, he was required to make his way through 
a double line of Swiss mercenaries toward the court- 
yard. As he passed out the palace-door, he was cut 
down without warning. In a short while two hundred 
corpses were, piled up under the palace windows, and 
the stones of the courtyard were slippery with the best 
blood of France. The victims were stripped and plun- 
dered by the Swiss as they fell, and in the afternoon 
the ladies of Catharine's Court, "inspected and laughed 
at the corpses as they lay stripped in the courtyard, 
being especially curious about the body of Soubise, 
from whom his wife had sought to be divorced on the 
ground of nullity of marriage." 

The King of Navarre and the Prince of Conde were 
conducted to Charles's chamber. They found the half 
crazy King of France in a furious rage, but notwith- 
standing this, they began to reproach him for his 
breach of faith. Charles commanded them to be 
silent, and to abandon their religion or die. Navarre 
demanded time to consider, but Conde declared he 
would not change his religion. The King of France 
then swore that, if in three days they had not made 
up their minds to apostatize, he would have their 



230 CROSS AND CROWN. 

heads. Meanwhile he kept them close prisoners in the 
palace. 

Marguerite, the Queen of Navarre, writes as follows 
of her experience on the day of St. Bartholomew : " I 
was awoke by a man knocking at the door, and calling 
Navarre! Navarre! The nurse, thinking it was my 
husband, ran and opened it. It was a gentleman 
named Leran, who had received a sword cut in the 
elbow, and a spear thrust in the arm ; four soldiers were 
pursuing him, and they all rushed into my chamber 
after him. Wishing to save his life, he threw himself 
upon my bed. Finding myself clasped in his arms, I 
got out on the other side, he followed me, still clinging 
to me. I did not know the man, and could not tell 
whether he had come to insult me, or whether the sol- 
diers were after him or me. We both shouted out, being 
equally frightened. At last, by God's mercy, Captain 
de Nan§ay of the Guards came in, and seeing me in this 
condition, could not help laughing, although , commise- 
rating me. Severely reprimanding the soldiers for 
their indiscretion, he turned them out of the room, 
and granted me the life of the poor man who still 
clung to me. I made him lie down, and had his 
wounds dressed in my closet until he was quite cured. 
While changing my night-dress, which was all covered 
w r ith blood, the captain told me what had happened, 
and assured me that my husband was with the king 
and quite unharmed. He then conducted me to the 
room of my sister of Lorraine, which I reached more 



THE HUGUENOTS. 231 

dead than alive. As I entered the ante-room, the 
doors of which were open, a gentleman named Bourse, 
running from the soldiers who pursued him, was 
pierced by a halberd three paces from me. I fell 
almost fainting into Captain de Nangay's arms, imagin- 
ing the same thrust had pierced us both. Being some- 
what recovered, I entered the little room where my 
sister slept. While there, M. de Miossans, my hus- 
band's first gentleman, and Armagnac, his first valet 
de chambre, came and begged me to save their lives. 
I went and threw myself at the feet of the king and 
the queen, my mother, to ask the favor, which they at 
last granted me." 

It was the Sabbath, but the massacre went on all 
day. The houses and lodging places of the Huguenots 
had been carefully registered, and were easily found. 
They were broken open, and the inmates were shot 
down or killed with the sword or axe. No quarter was 
given. Little children fared as badly as their parents, 
and the women were frequently outraged before being 
murdered. The priests were everywhere, urging on 
the savage work. The commander of the military 
forces, Marshal Tavannes, rode through the streets with 
his sword dripping with gore, shouting to the murder- 
ers : " Kill ! kill ! blood letting is as good in August as 
in May." 

" The massacre, commenced on Sunday, was continued 
through that and the two following days. It is impos- 
sible to assign to each day its task of blood — in all but 



232 CROSS AND CROWN. 

a few exceptional cases, we know merely that the vic- 
tims perished in the general slaughter. Writing in the 
midst of the carnage, probably not later than noon of 
the 24th, the Nuncio Sal viati says : 'The whole city is 
in arms ; the houses of the Huguenots have been forced 
with great loss of lives, and sacked by the populace 
with incredible avidity. . . You can see nothing in 
the street but white crosses in the hats and caps of 
every one you meet, which has a fine effect/ The 
Nuncio says nothing of the streets encumbered with 
heaps of naked, bleeding corpses, nothing of the cart- 
loads of bodies conveyed to the Seine, and then flung 
into the river, c so that not only were the waters in it 
turned to blood,' but so many corpses grounded on the 
bank of the little island of the Louvre, that the air be- 
came infected with the smell of corruption. The living, 
tied hand and foot, were thrown off the bridges. One 
man, probably a rag-gatherer, brought two little children 
in his creel, and tossed them into the water as carelessly 
as if they had been blind kittens. An infant, as yet 
unable to walk, had a cord tied around its neck, and 
was dragged through the streets by a troop of children 
nine or ten years old. Another played with the beard, 
and smiled in the face of the man who carried him ; 
but the innocent caress exasperated instead of soften- 
ing the ruffian, who stabbed the child, and with an oath 
threw it into the Seine. Among the earliest victims 
was the wife of the king's plumassier. The murderers 
broke into her house on the Notre Dame bridge, about 



THE HUGUENOTS. 233 

four in the morning, stabbed her, and flung her still 
breathing into the river. She clung for some time to 
the wooden piles of the bridge, and was killed at last 
with stones, her body remaining for four days entangled 
by her long hair among the woodwork. The story goes 
that her husband's corpse being thrown over, fell against 
hers, and set it free, both floating away together down 
the stream. Madeleine Brigonnet, widow of Theobald 
of Yverin, disguised herself as a woman of the people, 
so that she might save her life, but was betrayed by 
the fine petticoat which she hung below her coarse 
gown. As she would not recant, she was allowed a 
few moments' prayer, and then tossed into the water, 

" The houses on the bridge of Notre Dame, inhabited 
principally by Protestants, were witnesses to many a 
scene of cruelty. All the inmates of one house were 
massacred, except a little girl, who was dipped, stark 
naked, in the blood of her father and mother, and 
threatened to be served like them if she turned Hugue- 
not. The Protestant booksellers and printers were 
particularly sought after. Spire Niquet was burned 
over a slow fire made out of his own books, and thrown 
lifeless, but not dead, into the river. Oudin Petit fell 
a victim to the covetousness of his son-in-law, who was 
a Catholic bookseller ; Rene Bianchi, the queen's per- 
fumer, is reported to have killed with his own hands a 
young man, a cripple, who had already displayed much 
skill in goldsmith's work. This is the only man whose 
death the king lamented, ' because of his excellent 



234 CROSS AND CROWN. 

workmanship, for his shop was entirely stripped/ One 
woman was betrayed by her own daughter. Another, 
whose twenty-fifth pregnancy was approaching its term, 
was exposed to tortures unutterable. Another pregnant 
woman was drowned, after she had been compelled to 
walk over the face of her husband. Another woman, 
in a similar state, was shot as she tried to escape by 
the roof of her house, and the immature fruit of her 
womb was dashed against the wall. Frances Baillet, 
wife of the queen's goldsmith, seeing her husband and 
her son murdered, leaped out of the window, and broke 
both her legs by falling into the court beneath. A 
neighbor had compassion on her, and hid her in his 
cellar ; but being ' less brave than tender-hearted,' he 
was frightened by the threats of the assassins, and gave 
up the poor woman to them. The brutes dragged her 
through the streets by the hair, and in order to get 
easily at her gold bracelets, they chopped off both her 
hands, and left her all bleeding at the door of a cook- 
shop. The cook, annoyed by her groans, ran a spit 
into her body, and left it there. Some hours later, her 
mutilated remains were thrown into the river, and dogs 
gnawed her hands which had been left in the streets. 

" Few of the Huguenots attempted any resistance, 
though many of them were veteran soldiers. Had they 
done so, the whole body might have found time to rally. 
As it was, they were equally unable to defend them- 
selves, or to fly ; their faculties seemed benumbed . . . 
Three men only in Paris are recorded as having fought 



THE HUGUENOTS. 235 

for their lives. Taverny, a lieutenant of Marechaussee, 
stood a regular siege in his house. For eight or nine 
hours he and one servant kept the mob at bay, and 
when his leaden bullets were exhausted, he used pellets 
of pitch. As soon as these were spent, he rushed out, 
and was overwhelmed by numbers. His wife was 
taken to prison; but his invalid sister was dragged 
naked through the streets, until death ended her suffer- 
ings and her ignominy. Guerchy also struggled unsuc- 
cessfully for his life, his only weapon being a dagger 
against men protected with cuirasses. Soubise also 
fought like a hero — one against a host — and died 
beneath the windows of the queen's apartments, among 
the earliest of the victims. 

" Mezeray writes that 700 or 800 people had 
taken refuge in the prisons, hoping they would be 
safe ' under the wings of justice;' but the officers 
selected for this work had them brought out into the 
fitly-named f Valley of Misery,' and there beat them 
to death with clubs, and threw their bodies into the 
river. The Venetian ambassador corroborates this 
story, adding that they were murdered in batches of 
ten. ... A gold-beater named Crozier, one of those 
prison murderers, bared his sinewy arm and boasted 
of having killed 4000 persons with his own hands. 
Another man affirmed that unaided he had ' dispatched ' 
eighty Huguenots in one day. On Tuesday a butcher, 
Crozier's comrade, boasted to the king that he had killed 
150 the night before Coconnas, one of the mignons 



236 C£ OSS AND CRO WN. 

of Anjou, prided himself on having ransomed from the 
populace as many as thirty Huguenots, for the pleasure 
of making them abjure and then killing them with his 
own hand, after he had ' secured them for hell.' 

" About seven o'clock the king was at one of the 
windows of his palace, enjoying the air of that beautiful 
August morning, when he was startled by shouts of 
c kill ! kill ! ' They were raised by a body of 200 
Guards, who were firing with much more noise than 
execution at a number of Huguenots who had crossed 
the river : ' to seek the king's protection,' says one ac- 
count ; ' to help the king against the Guises,' says 
another. Charles, who had just been telling his mother 
that i the weather seemed to rejoice at the slaughter of 
the Huguenots,' felt all his savage instincts kindle at 
the sight. He had hunted wild beasts, now he would 
hunt men ; and calling for an arquebuse, he fired at the 
fugitives, who were fortunately out of range." * 

Such were some of the horrors that were crowded 
into these three eventful August days. It would be 
impossible to describe all. Six thousand persons are 
believed to have perished in Paris alone, and among 
these were some of the noblest and best of the king's 
subjects. When the city became calm again, a feeling 
of horror fell upon it, and even among the Catholics 
there were many who did not hesitate to condemn the 
bloody deed, while they rejoiced that heresy was rooted 

* The Massacre of St. Bartholomew. By Henry White, pp. 417 to 435. 



THE HUGUENOTS. 237 

out in the capital. The massacre had hardly ceased 
before Catharine and her fellow-conspirators found that 
they had committed a terrible political blunder, and 
had inflicted upon the kingdom a wound which would 
require for its healing more skill than they could com- 
mand. They endeavored to throw the blame upon the 
Duke of Guise, but that nobleman refused to bear it, 
and they finally induced the king to assume in a public 
speech the responsibility of it, and to declare that it was 
a political and not a religious act. The Papal Nuncio, 
Salviati, at once pronounced this declaration to be 
" false, in every respect," and added that a man- of the 
least " experience in worldly matters would be ashamed 
to believe it." 

Almost immediately upon the beginning of the mas- 
sacre in Paris, Charles, at the instance of his mother and 
the conspirators, sent messengers to the different cities 
and towns of the kingdom, with orders to the Governors 
thereof to put all the Huguenots in those places to death, 
the object being to exterminate the Reformed in the 
entire kingdom. In nearly every instance these orders 
were obeyed with barbarous alacrity, and in the pro- 
vincial towns blood flowed as freely as it had done 
in Paris. In some cases, however, the provincial offi- 
cers were merciful. The municipal authorities of Nan- 
tes refused to authorize the massacre, and the Gov- 
ernor of Alencon, Matignon, by name, threatened to 
turn the garrison against the city if a Huguenot was 
injured, and consequently there was no blood shed in 



238 CROSS AND CROWN. 

these places. In Auvergne the Huguenots were protec- 
ted in every place but one. The Governor of Bayonne, 
upon the receipt of the royal order, wrote to the king : 
" Sire, I have communicated your majesty's commands 
to the faithful inhabitants and garrison of this city. I 
have found among them many good citizens and brave 
soldiers, but not one executioner." The noble answer 
of James Hennuyer, Bishop of Lisieux, deserves to be 
recorded. When the king's lieutenant brought him the 
order he had received for the massacre of all the Hugue- 
nots in the city, the bishop exclaimed : " No, no, sir — 
I oppose, and will always oppose the execution of such 
an order, to which I cannot consent. I am pastor of 
the church of Lisieux, and the people you are comman- 
ded to slay are my flock. Although they are wanderers 
at present, having strayed from the fold which has 
been confided to me by Jesus Christ, the supreme Pastor, 
they may nevertheless return, and I will not give up 
the hope of seeing them come back. I do not read in 
the Gospel that the shepherd ought to suffer the blqod 
of his sheep to be shed ; on the contrary, I find that he 
is bound to pour out his own blood and give his own 
life for them. Take the order back again, for it shall 
never be executed so long as I live." In Burgundy 
there was but little blood shed, the authorities refusing 
to execute the royal orders in most instances. The 
Roman Catholics at Senlis refused to join in the mas- 
sacre. The Governor of Dieppe also refused to obey 
the order. At Nismes, the authorities closed the gates 



THE HUGUENOTS. 239 

and placed a guard of citizens over them to keep out 
strangers. This done, they called on all the people, both 
Catholic and Huguenot, to unite in preserving the 
peace of the city, and to assist in defending each other. 
They thus kept the Komanists in ignorance of the 
actual condition of affairs until the period of danger 
was ended. 

Tn other parts of France the scene was different. At 
Saumur all the Huguenots in the town were killed. 
The royal messenger reached Angers on the 29th of 
August, at daybreak. He at once caused the gates of 
the town to be shut, and passing into the house of a 
Huguenot gentleman, killed him as he lay in his sick- 
bed. He next called on the pastor, La Riviere, with 
whom he had long been on friendly terms. He found 
him in his garden. Embracing him in the usual man- 
ner, he said : " I have the king's orders to put you to 
death instantly." The minister asked for a few mo- 
ments delay to collect his thoughts and pray. This was 
granted him, and when he had concluded his prayer, 
Montsoreau, for such was his murderer's name, killed 
him on the spot. The assassin then went and killed two 
other ministers, and having succeeded in arousing the 
fury of a portion of the Eoman Catholic population, 
made a' general attack on the Huguenots. The magis- 
trates finally compelled him to desist, and the massacre 
was stopped. At Orleans, Lyons, Bordeaux, Toulouse, 
Troyes, Meaux, Rouen, and other places, blood flowed 
freely. No mercy was shown the unhappy Huguenots. 



240 CROSS AND CROWN. 

They were shot down, or hacked to pieces, or thrown 
into the river, or beaten to death, or burned. The 
most fearful cruelties were perpetrated. In Lyons 
alone 4000 people were killed, and at Aries the Rhone 
became so putrid with the corpses floating down from 
Lyons that the people were unable for several days to 
drink its waters. At Bordeaux the most eloquent of 
the Jesuit preachers, Father Auger, exerted himself 
to urge on the massacre. " Who," he cried, " executed 
the divine judgments at Paris ? The Angel of the Lord. 
And who will execute them in Bordeaux ? The Angel 
of the Lord, however man may try to resist him." 

At length the storm of blood and ruin spent its force. 
There was a lull all over France, and men sat down to 
count the number of the victims. In all the kingdom 
there was mourning and suffering. The Duke of Sully 
says that 70,000 Huguenots were slain during the mas- 
sacre, though other writers place the number as high 
as 100,000, while others again bring it as low as 10,000. 
It was a blow which reacted upon the heads of those 
who struck it. It weakened France in a marked degree, 
for many veteran soldiers were among the victims, and 
consequently strengthened her rival, Spain. When 
Philip II. received Catharine's letter informing him of 
the dreadful event, he laughed aloud, for the first and 
only time in his life. 

Catharine also wrote to the Pope informing him of 
the massacre. The news created the most profound 
excitement in Rome. A triumphal salute was fired 



THE HUGUENOTS. 241 

from the Castle of St Angelo, the bells rang out from 
every steeple, bonfires gleamed from all the seven hills 
of Rome, and the city was brilliantly illuminated. 
Gregory XIII., and his Cardinals and a host of the 
clergy went in solemn state to the Church of St. Louis, 
where the Cardinal of Lorraine chanted a Te Deum. 
" A pompous Latin inscription in gilt letters over the 
entrance, describes Charles as an avenging angel sent 
from Heaven (' angelo percussore divinitus immisso')to 
sweep his kingdom from heretics. A medal was struck 
to commemorate the massacre ; and in the Vatican may 
still be seen three frescoes by Vasari describing the 
attack upon the admiral, the king in council plotting 
the massacre, and the massacre itself. Gregory sent 
Charles the golden rose ; and four months after the 
massacre, when humane feelings might have been sup- 
posed to have resumed their sway, he listened com- 
placently to the sermon of a French priest, the learned 
but cankered Muretus, who spoke of ( that day so full 
of happiness and joy when the most holy father re- 
ceived the news and went in solemn state to render 
thanks to God and St. Louis.' " * 

But if Rome and Spain approved and praised the 
bloody massacre of St. Bartholomew, the event aroused 
a general feeling of horror in other parts of Europe. 
The German Emperor, Maximilian II., the father of 
Charles' wife, sternly denounced the affair, and in this 



* The Massacre of St. Bartholomew, p. 466. 
16 



242 CROSS AND CEOWN. 

condemnation he was joined by all the Protestant 
Princes of Northern Europe. In England the news 
was received with outspoken indignation and horror. 
For some days Queen Elizabeth refused to receive the 
French Ambassador. At length she summoned him to 
Richmond, where the Court was staying. Fenelon, the 
French Ambassador, says Hume, in describing his 
reception by the English Queen, " a man of probity, 
abhorred the treachery and cruelty of his Court, and 
even scrupled not to declare that he was now ashamed 
to bear the name of Frenchman ; yet he was obliged to 
obey his orders, and make use of the apology which 
had been prescribed to him. He met with that recep- 
tion from all the courtiers which he knew the conduct 
of his master had so well merited. Nothing could 
be more awful and affecting than the solemnity of his 
audience. A melancholy sorrow sat on every face ; 
silence, as in the dead of night, reigned through all the 
chambers of the royal apartment; the courtiers and 
ladies, clad in deep mourning, were ranged on each 
side, and allowed him to pass without affording him one 
salute or favorable look till he was admitted to the 
queen herself." Lord Burghley told the Ambassador 
bluntly, that " the Paris massacre was the most horrible 
crime which had been committed since the crucifixion 
of Christ." 

Charles IX., who had been driven into giving his 
consent to the murders, by his infamous mother, paid a 
fearful price for his share in the transaction. Horrified 



THE HUGUENOTS. 243 

at the violence which reigned in the city, he broke down 
on the second day of the massacre. He became a prey 
to alternate fits of violence and remorse. Ambrose 
Pare, his surgeon, who had been exempted by the royal 
order from the massacre at Coligni's house, was never 
allowed to quit his side. To the surgeon, the king ex- 
claimed in an agony of grief: "I do not know what 
ails me. For these two or three days past, both mind 
and body have been quite upset. I burn with fever : 
all around me grin pale blood-stained faces. Ah ! Am- 
brose, if they had but spared the weak and innocent ! " 
From the time of the massacre his health failed, and he 
was little more than a maniac. Yet so strong was his 
hatred of his brother the Duke of Anjou, and his abhor- 
rence of his mother, that he clung with feverish tenacity 
to his crown. He heard voices in the air calling to him, 
reproaching him for his cruelty, and his sleep and even 
his waking moments were haunted by visions of the 
bleeding victims of the dreadful days of St. Bartholo- 
mew. For some months before his death he could 
scarcely rest at all. Music was employed to soothe him, 
but it soon lost its effect. His agony was so great that 
he began to spit blood, and a bloody sweat oozed from 
the pores of his skin. Indeed, he saw nothing but blood, 
waking or sleeping. His room was peopled with Hugu- 
enot ghosts, and his conscience gave him no rest. His 
Huguenot nurse, who had reared him from his infancy, 
watched over him with unceasing devotion. One night 
she heard him sobbing bitterly, and she drew back the 



244 CROSS AND CROWN. 

curtains of his bed to ask the cause of his grief. " Oh, 
nurse/' he exclaimed, weeping, " my dear nurse, what 
bloodshed and murder ! Oh, that I should have fol- 
lowed such wicked advice. Pardon me, God, and 
have mercy on me. What shall I do ? I am lost ! I 
am lost ! " The nurse endeavored to soothe him, and 
told him that the principal responsibility for the crime 
rested upon those who drove him to it, and urged him 
to believe that God would pardon him if he was truly 
penitent. On the day before his death, Catharine came 
to him with the news of the capture of one of the Hu- 
guenot leaders. " Madame," said the dying king, " such 
things affect me no longer. I am dying." lie expired 
on the 30th of May, 1574, whispering faintly as his 
spirit took flight : " If Jesus my Saviour would number 
me among his redeemed — " " a late and involuntary 
testimony to the exhortations of his pious nurse." It 
was rumored that his mother had poisoned him, to se- 
cure the crown for her favorite son the Duke of Anjou, 
who succeeded to the throne as Henry III., and there 
is good reason to believe Catharine guilty of the murder 
of the son whose soul she had so industriously labored 
to destroy. 

The massacre of St. Bartholomew struck a terrible 
blow at the Huguenots, but it did not utterly destroy 
them. Among those who succeeded in escaping were 
some of the principal leaders of the party, and to these 
was soon added the Prince of Conde, who had managed 
to get away from the Court. These at once took up 



THE HUGUENOTS. 245 

arms for their common protection, and in many cases 
were successful in defeating the royal troops sent against 
them. Thus began again the religious wars, which 
raged with but little intermission until the succession 
of the King of Navarre to the throne of France, as 
Henry IV., in 1594. The country was greatly weak- 
ened by these struggles, but the wise and vigorous 
measures of Henry IV. brought back peace and pros- 
perity. In order to secure the perfect repose of the 
country, Henry, who cared but little for religion of any 
kind, publicly abjured Protestantism, and embraced the 
faith of Rome. He followed this change of faith by the 
wisest and most salutary act of his reign. In 1598, he 
issued an edict, known as the Edict of Nantes, by 
which after a period of sixty years of persecution, the 
Huguenots were placed on an equality with other 
Frenchmen. By this edict, persons of the Reformed 
faith were protected in the free and public enjoyment 
and profession of their religious belief. They were ad- 
mitted to public employment ; the schools and universi- 
ties were thrown open to them ; they were allowed rep- 
resentatives in the provincial parliaments, and certain 
cities in the kingdom were granted to them as pledges 
for the execution of this treaty. 

This act of justice was the principal cause of the pros- 
perity which afterward dawned upon France, and was 
mainly acceptable to all Frenchmen. It gave great 
offence to the Pope and the Jesuits, however. Clement 
VIII. protested against it, declaring that "a decree 



246 CROSS AND CROWN. 

which gave liberty of conscience to all was the most 
accursed that had ever been made." The Jesuits made 
frequent attempts upon King Henry's life, and at 
length he was assassinated by one of their order, on the 
14th of May, 1610. Jesuitism thus won another tri- 
umph, but at a terrible cost to France. Henry was cut 
off in the midst of plans which, could he have lived to 
carry them out, would have changed for the better all 
the subsequent history of his country. 

Under his son and successor, the Edict of Nantes 
continued to be practically respected, the wars with the 
Huguenots which marked this period being more politi- 
cal than religious in their causes and character. Riche- 
lieu had the genius to perceive the wisdom of Henry's 
policy, and the firmness to enforce it, while he com- 
pletely crushed the Huguenots as a political party. 
The Huguenots, after Richelieu's triumph, and during a 
great portion of the next reign, became noted for their 
loyalty to the king, and steadfastly refused to take part 
in any insurrection against him as long as he treated 
them with justice. 

Being placed on a footing of equality with the rest of 
the king's subjects, the Huguenots applied themselves 
with diligence to their secular affairs, and the districts 
in which they were most numerous soon became known 
as the most prosperous in France. They gave less time 
than the Roman Catholics to the celebration of saints* 
days and festivals, and their labor was consequently 
more continuous than that of their neighbors. The 



TEE HUGUENOTS. 247 

Huguenot pastors and leaders continually urged upon 
their people the duty of being industrious. The Re- 
formers were also sober, earnest and faithful men. 
Their persecutions had aroused in them the highest 
qualities, and these were of incalculable value to them 
in their commercial pursuits. Numerous manufactories 
sprang up in all parts of France, and became noted for 
their silks, velvets, paper, and other articles, all the 
product of Huguenot skill and industry. France seemed 
on the point of becoming the most powerful manufactu- 
ring country in the world. The Reformers were excel- 
lent farmers and vine-dressers, and their farms and 
vineyards returned them abundant rewards for their 
labors. Wherever the land gave evidence of more than 
usually skilful culture, the owner was almost sure to be 
one of the Reformed. The Huguenots were noted for 
' their integrity as well as their industry. " The Hugu- 
enot's word was as good as his bond, and to be ' honest 
as a Huguenot/ passed into a proverb. This quality 
of integrity — which is essential in the merchant who 
deals with foreigners whom he never sees— so charac- 
terized the business transactions of the Huguenots, that 
the foreign trade of the country fell almost entirely into 
their hands. The English and Dutch were always 
found more ready to open a correspondence with them 
than with the Roman Catholic merchants, though re- 
ligious affinity may possibly have had some influence in 
determining the preference. And thus at Bordeaux, at 
Rouen, at Caen, at Metz, at NismeSj and the other 



248 CROSS AND CROWN. 

great centres of commerce, the foreign business of France 
came to be almost entirely conducted by Huguenot 
merchants." * 

The Reformed set themselves sternly against idleness 
and ignorance. They were all possessed of more or less 
education, and this gave them a great advantage over 
the Roman Catholics, comparatively few of whom 
could read or write. Many of the most gifted orators, 
writers, and poets of the day were Huguenots. The 
great statesman Colbert, was a member of this faith^ 
and he may be said to have recreated France. His 
wise reforms, however, were overturned by the king, 
who squandered money faster than Colbert could raise 
it for him, and thus entailed upon the country a crush- 
ing debt. 

It seemed clear that if France was to be raised to the 
summit of the prosperity Colbert desired for her, it must 
be the Huguenots who would carry her there; and indeed 
they seemed about to do it, in spite of the king's 
extravagance. Louis XIV. from the very first regarded 
the Reformed with open dislike, and finally became 
their bitterest persecutor, notwithstanding the fact that 
they were his best subjects. Louis was an intensely 
vain and ambitious man. He aspired to be a new 
Caesar. At first he was successful . The armies of 
Spain and Holland were defeated, and the king won 
great glory for himself and his country, and made 

* The Huguenots. By Samuel Smiles, p. 135. 



TEE HUGUENOTS. 249 

heavy increases in the taxes of his subjects to pay for 
these achievements. He found Germany a more difficult 
power to deal with, and as he advanced in years he 
reaped a plentiful harvest of defeats, which made the 
taxes of the people still heavier. As the king grew 
older and his troubles increased he became a more 
merciless foe to the Reformed. 

Rome had never been pleased with the toleration 
accorded to the Huguenots, and the Jesuits had labored 
diligently to renew against them the policy of exter- 
mination. As they obtained more and more influence 
over Louis XIV. they became bolder in their demands. 
They exerted all their arts to win him over to their 
favorite scheme, and succeeded so well that the king 
never was able to perceive that he was but the tool of 
the worst enemies of his country. The Jesuits cared 
nothing for France, and they were willing that the 
kingdom should be sunk into the depths of ignorance 
and poverty, if they could succeed in extirpating 
heresy. In 1661, a series of edicts was published, 
greatly curtailing the privileges of the Reformed. 
Their conferences were declared to be suppressed. They 
were still permitted to worship in their churches, but 
the singing of their psalms in their private houses was 
forbidden. The priests were authorized to enter the 
chambers of sick Protestants, and endeavor to convert 
them to the faith of Rome. Protestant children were 
invited to declare themselves against the religion of their 
parents, and boys of fourteen and girls of twelve years 



250 CROSS AND CROWN. 

were declared entirely free from parental control on 
condition of their embracing Catholicism. Huguenots 
were made incapable of holding public offices, and in 
some parts of the kingdom they were not permitted to 
carry on the ordinary trades. In 1666, Anne of 
Austria, the mother of the king, died, and as her last 
request urged her son to exterminate heresy within his 
dominions. The priests exhorted him to obey the 
wishes of his mother, and the king determined to com- 
ply with their request, hoping by completely destroy- 
ing the Keformed to compromise with Heaven for his 
life of debauchery and sin. 

The Huguenots quickly took the alarm, and aban- 
doning their possessions, or selling them where they 
could find purchasers, they left the country, in many 
instances, and sought safety in Holland, in Switzerland, 
and in England, carrying with them their industry and 
skill to enrich the places of their exile. The king met 
this with an edict which forbade French subjects from 
going abroad without his express permission, under 
penalty of confiscation of their goods and property. 

The Protestants now numbered a million and a half 
of people, and they could have made a dangerous 
resistance had they been so minded ; but they merely 
met together and prayed that the king's heart might 
be softened toward them. They were devoutly attached 
to their religion, and they were guiltless of any crime 
against the State. They were guilty, however, of 
refusing to submit to the tyranny of Rome, and this 



TEE HUGUENOTS. 251 

sealed their doom. Their persecutions were multiplied. 
They were forbidden to print books without the sanc- 
tion of magistrates of the Eomish faith. Protestant 
teachers were forbidden to teach children anything but 
reading, writing, and arithmetic. Huguenot children 
were kidnapped by the Roman Catholic priests, and the 
parents were severely punished if they ventured to 
complain. Protestant churches were pulled down, and 
such ministers as dared to hold meetings amid the ruins 
of these churches were made to do penance with a rope 
around their neck, after which they were banished from 
the kingdom. They could only bury their dead at 
daybreak f or at nightfall, and were forbidden to sing 
their psalms. Every annoyance as well as persecution 
was heaped upon them, Louis and the priests hoping 
to drive them to a resistance which would give them a 
pretext for exterminating them at one blow. The 
Huguenots, however, bore their trials patiently, praying 
to God that He would yet change the king's heart, and 
asking only to be allowed to worship God in their own 
way in peace. 

The king, however, became more cruel as he grew 
older. When sickness and the fear of death made him 
turn from his mistresses to the priests, the latter were 
not slow to increase his " religious zeal." His confes- 
sor, Pere la Chaise, was a Jesuit, and his last mistress, 
whom he subsequently married, Madame de Maintenon, 
was the creature of the priest. These two received 
their inspiration from the Jesuits and Rome, and kept 



252 CROSS AND CROWN. 

the king firm in his cruelties. Finding that he could 
not shake the constancy of the Reformed, the " great 
king " went a step farther. 

" In 1683, the year of Colbert's death, the military 
executions began. Pity, terror, and anguish had by 
turns agitated the minds of the Protestants, until at 
length they were reduced to a state almost of despair. 
Life was made most intolerable to them. All careers 
were closed against them, and Protestants of the work- 
ing class were under the necessity of abjuring or starv- 
ing. The mob, observing that the Protestants were no 
longer within the pale of the law, took the opportunity 
of wreaking all manner of outrages upon them. They 
broke into their churches, tore up the benches, and, 
placing the Bibles and hymn-books in a pile, set the 
whole on fire; the authorities usually setting their 
sanction on the proceedings of the rioters by banishing 
the burned-out ministers, and interdicting the further 
celebration of worship in the destroyed churches. 

" The Huguenots of Dauphiny were at last stung 
into a show of resistance, and furnished the king with 
the pretext which he wanted for ordering a general 
slaughter of those of his subjects who would not be 
' converted' to his religion. A large congregation 
of Huguenots assembled one day amid the ruins of a 
wrecked church to celebrate worship and pray for the 
king. The Roman Catholics thereupon raised the 
alarm that this meeting was held for the purpose of 
organizing a rebellion. The spark thus kindled in 



THE HUGUENOTS. 253 

Dauphiny burst into flame in the Yiverais and even 
in Languedoc, and troops were brought from all quarters 
to crush the apprehended outbreak. Meanwhile the 
Huguenots continued to hold their religious meetings, 
and a number of them were found one day assembled 
outside Bordeaux, where they had met to pray. There 
the dragoons fell upon them, cutting down hundreds, 
and dispersing the rest. ' It was a mere butchery,' says 
Rulhieres, ' without the show of a combat.' Several 
were apprehended and offered pardon if they would 
abjure ; but they refused and were hanged. 

" Noailles, then Governor, seized the opportunity of 
advancing himself in the royal favor by ordering a 
general massacre. He obeyed to the letter the cruel 
orders of Luvois, the king's minister, who prescribed 
desolation. Cruelty raged for a time uncontrolled 
from Grenoble to Bordeaux. There were massacres in 
the Yiverais and massacres in the Cevennes. An entire 
army had converged on Nisrnes, and there was so hor- 
rible a dragonnade that the city was i converted ' in 
twenty-four hours 

" Like cruelties followed all over France. More 
Protestant churches were pulled down, and the pro- 
perty that belonged to them was confiscated for the 
benefit of the Roman Catholic hospitals. Many of the 
Huguenot land-owners had already left the kingdom, 
and others were preparing to follow them. But this 
did not suit the views of the monarch and his advisers ; 
and the ordinances were ordered to be put in force 



254 CROSS AND CROWN. 

which interdicted emigration, with the addition of 
condemnation to the galleys for life of heads of fami- 
lies found attempting to escape, and a fine of three 
thousand livres against any person found encouraging 
or assisting them. By the same ordinance, all con- 
tracts for the sales of property made by the Reformed 
one year before the date of their emigration were 
declared nullified. The consequence was that many 

landed estates were seized and sold 

" Thus were the poor Huguenots trodden under foot 
— persecuted, maltreated, fined, flogged, hanged, or 
sabred ; nevertheless, many of those who survived still 
remained faithful. Toward the end of 1684 a painful 
incident occurred at Marennes, in Saintonge, where the 
Reformed religion extensively prevailed, notwithstand- 
ing the severity of the persecution. The Church there 
comprised from 13,000 to 14,000 persons; but on the 
pretence that some children of the new converts to 
Romanism had been permitted to enter the building (a 
crime in the eye of the law), the cougregation was 
ordered, late one Saturday evening, to be suppressed. 
On the Sunday morning, a large number of worshippers 
appeared at the church doors, some of whom had come 
from a great distance — their own churches being 
already closed or pulled down — and among them were 
twenty-three infants brought for baptism. It was win- 
ter ; the cold was intense ; and no shelter being per- 
mitted within the closed church, the poor things were 
mostly frozen to death on their mothers' bosoms. Loud 



THE HUGUENOTS. 255 

sobbing and wailing rose from the crowd ; all wept, 
even the men ; but they found consolation in prayer, 
and resolved in this, their darkest hour, to be faithful 
unto the end, even unto death." * 

All, however, were not so firm. The soldiers sent 
against the Huguenots were the most reckless and 
brutal of their class, and they were allowed the utmost 
licence. The horrors of the dragonnades, as these mili- 
tary executions were termed, cannot be fully related 
here. They are too abominable to bear repetition. 
It is sufficient to say that many yielded to them and 
were " converted." A refusal to recant was invariably 
followed by death or imprisonment. In September, 
1685, Luvois wrote: "Sixty thousand conversions 
have been made in the district of Bordeaux, and 
twenty thousand in that of Montauban. So rapid is the 
progress, that before the end of the month ten thousand 
Protestants will not be left in the district of Bordeaux, 
where there were 150,000 on the 15th of last month." 

" In the meantime, while these forced conversions of 
the Huguenots were being made by the dragoons of De 
Louvois and De Noailles, Madame de Maintenon con- 
tinued to labor at the conversion of the king himself. 
She was materially assisted by her royal paramour's 
bad digestion, and by the qualms of conscience which 
from time to time beset him at the dissoluteness of his 
past life. Every twinge of pain, every fit of colic, 

* Smiles. 



256 CROSS AND CROWN. 

every prick of conscience, was succeeded by new resolu- 
tions to extirpate heresy. Penance must be done for 
his incontinence, but not by himself. It was the virtu- 
ous Huguenots that must suffer vicariously for him; 
and, by punishing them, he flattered himself that he 
was expiating his own sins. c It was not only his 
amours which deserve censure,' says Sismondi, although 
the scandal of their publicity, the dignities to which he 
raised the children of his adultery, and the constant 
humiliation to which he subjected his wife, add greatly 
to his offence against public morality. . . He ac- 
knowledged in his judgments, and in his rigor toward 
his people, no rule but his own will. At the very mo- 
ment that his subjects were dying of famine, he re- 
trenched nothing of his prodigalities. Those who 
boasted of having converted him, had never repre- 
sented to him more than two duties — that of renoun- 
cing his incontinence, and that of extirpating heresy in 
his dominions. 

" The farce of Louis's conversion went on. In Aug- 
ust, 1684, Madame de Main tenon wrote thus: 'The 
king is prepared to do everything that shall be judged 
useful for the welfare of religion ; this undertaking will 
cover him with glory before God and man ! ' The 
dragon ades were then in full career throughout the 
southern provinces, and a long wail of anguish was ris- 
ing from the persecuted all over France. In 1685, the 
king's sufferings increased, and his conversion became 
imminent. His miserable body was already beginning 



THE HUGUENOTS. 257 

to decay ; but he was willing to make a sacrifice to God 
of what the devil had left of it. Not only did he lose 
his teeth, but caries in the jaw-bone developed itself; 
and when he drank, the liquid passed through his nos- 
trils. In this shocking state, Madame de Main tenon 
became his nurse. 

"The Jesuits now obtained all that they wanted. 
They made a compact with Madame by which she was 
to advise the king to revoke the Edict of Nantes, while 
they were to consent to her marriage with him. Pere 
la Chaise, his confessor, advised a private marriage, and 
the ceremony was performed at Versailles by the Arch- 
bishop of Paris, in the presence of the confessor and two 
more witnesses. The precise date of the transaction is 
not known, but it is surmised that the edict was re- 
voked one day, and the marriage took place the next. 
The Act of Kevocation was published on the 22d of 
October, 1685. It was the death knell of the Hugue- 
nots." * 

The Revocation of the Edict of Nantes was greeted 
with a shout of joy from the Roman Catholic world. 
The Pope wrote to Louis congratulating him, and 
thanking him in the name of the Church. Religious 
processions paraded the streets of Rome, going- from 
shrine to shrine, offering up thanks for the inauguration 
of the new era of persecution. Rejoicings were held in 
all parts of France, and the Roman Catholic clergy 
were almost beside themselves with delight. 

* Smiles. 
17 



258 CROSS AND CROWN. 

Under the protection of the Edict of Nantes, France 
had embarked in a career of prosperity such as she had 
never known before, and had attained such a position 
of wealth and importance that she seemed about to sur- 
pass all her rivals. All this had been brought about by 
the Huguenots, and to them the king was really more 
indebted than to any other class of his subjects. Louis 
cared little for this, however, and his Jesuit advisers 
were utterly reckless of the consequences of the step 
they had induced him to take. 

The Revocation of the Edict of Nantes brought many 
serious afflictions upon the Eeformed, among others, 
"the demolition of all the remaining Protestant temples 
throughout France, and the entire proscription of the 
Protestant religion; the prohibition of even private 
worship under penalty of confiscation of body and pro- 
perty ; the banishment of all Protestant pastors from 
France within fifteen days ; the closing of all Protestant 
schools ; the prohibition of all Protestant parents to in- 
struct their children in the Protestant faith ; the injunc- 
tion upon them, under a penalty of five hundred livres 
in each case, to have their children baptized by the 
parish priest, and brought up in the Roman Catholic 
religion ; the confiscation of the property and goods of 
all Protestant refugees who failed to return to France 
within four months ; the penalty of the galleys for life 
to all men, and of imprisonment for life to all women, 
^detected in the act of attempting to escape from France." 

This brutal edict of revocation was a declaration of 



THE HUGUENOTS. 259 

war by one of the strongest military powers of Europe 
upon a defenceless party. It was an open avowal that 
the day of mercy had departed. It was an outrage 
upon religion and humanity, upon morality and virtue. 
It stands as one of the cruellest acts recorded in history, 
and its only defender is the Church of Home, its true 
author. 

There followed this edict a period of horror which is 
almost too painful for description. The Jesuits were 
determined that the Eeformed should feel the full 
weight of their vengeance, and they had induced the 
king to forbid his subjects to attempt to escape from 
their persecutions. The fierce soldiery of the French 
arnry, and thousands of mercenaries hired abroad, were 
turned against the Huguenots in all parts of France, 
and the most dreadful cruelties followed. Every 
Huguenot dwelling was invaded by these savage dra- 
goons, from the hut of the herdsman to the castle of the 
noble, and their occupants were subjected to the gross- 
est outrages. Men and women were murdered at their 
own firesides, little children were snatched from their 
parents' arms, and put to death in their sight, and 
wives and maidens were ravished amidst the ruins of 
the homes which had once been theirs. The king and 
the priests were fully cognizant of all these things and 
encouraged them. The Huguenots were forbidden to 
bury their dead, or to comfort them when dying. The 
bodies of those who died without the last offices of the 
Roman Church, were removed from their dwellings by 



260 CROSS AND CROWN. 

the public hangman and thrown into the common 
sewer. Those who refused the viaticum when sick, 
were punished if they recovered, with the galleys or 
imprisonment for life, and the confiscation of all their 
property. 

The king and the Jesuits found that, with all their 
power, they could not conquer the consciences of the 
Huguenots. A few, indeed, did recant, and embrace 
the Roman faith, but many of these went back to the 
Reformers at the first opportunity. The great mass of 
the Huguenots, however, stood firm, and gave to the 
world one of the sublimest spectacles of religious hero- 
ism and constancy ever witnessed. They were treated 
without mercy, and were subjected to a trial which 
fully tested their faith, but they endured all. There 
was but one means of seeking relief — to fly from the 
country. They were tenderly attached to their native 
land, and the thought of leaving it filled them "with 
intense grief. To stay, was to suffer, and to die; to 
fly was almost as bad in their eyes. Indeed, flight was 
very difficult. The frontiers were strongly guarded, 
and the coast was vigilantly watched. Those who fell 
into the hands of the guards were sent to the galleys, 
but were first led in heavy chains through the princi- 
pal Huguenot towns, to terrify those of their brethren 
who contemplated emigration. 

Yet in spite of all the dangers, thousands fled from 
the country. There are many narratives preserved to 
us of their adventures on the way. Some are exceed- 



TEE HUGUENOTS. 261 

ingly touching, and all are deeply interesting. They 
abandoned all their possessions, and fled, glad to save 
their lives and their consciences. They adopted all 
manner of disguises, and fled by unfrequented roads. 
They travelled mostly at night, and in small parties, 
or singly. A family flying from the kingdom would 
generally separate, and travel singly, after appointing 
a rendezvous across the nearest frontier. They had 
great difficulty in eluding the guards along the frontier. 
Some succeeded in bribing the soldiers to let them 
pass ; others fought their way across the border. The 
emigration finally came to be conducted on a regular 
system. Itineraries were prepared and secretly dis- 
tributed, in which the safest routes and best hiding 
places were set forth, and in this way substantial aid 
was rendered to the fugitives. 

Many were shot down by the soldiers and the 
Roman Catholic peasantry, and many were captured. 
The prisoners, after being heavily chained and led 
through the principal towns, were sent to the galleys. 
These galleys were vessels usually one hundred and 
fifty feet long and forty feet wide. They were used 
for the purpose of guarding the coasts, and sometimes 
ventured to attack English vessels which came too near 
the shore. Along each side of the galley ran a bench 
to which the slaves were fastened by a heavy chain 
around one leg, this chain being of sufficient length to 
allow them to sleep on the deck. They were com- 
pelled to remain here night and day, exposed to all the 



262 CROSS AND CROWN. 

extremes of heat and cold. They were half-fed, half- 
clothed, and were treated with the greatest brutality. 
Their business was to row the vessel about, two or 
more being assigned to each oar. When they did not 
row fast enough they were cruelly beaten by the petty 
officer placed over them, who was armed with a heavy 
whip for that purpose. The galley slaves were usually 
the most infamous criminals, and the punishment was 
the most degrading that could be inflicted. It was, 
therefore, a refinement of cruelty worthy of the Jesuit 
fathers who encouraged it, to send to these fearful 
floating prisons the Huguenots who refused to abandon 
their faith. The purest and gentlest of men, whose 
goodness all admitted, were sent here and chained in 
company with the vilest criminals. They were kept 
here in some cases as long as twenty years. The Pro- 
testant pastors were invariably sent to the galleys 
when captured. Noblemen were often found in the 
ranks of the galley slaves, their sole offence being 
their religion. Men of profound learning and admitted 
piety were to be seen here toiling at the oar. The old 
and the young soon sank beneath the cruel treatment 
inflicted upon them, and death mercifully closed their 
sufferings. The more hardy, however, endured longer. 
When, after a lapse of many years, the Protestant 
powers of Europe induced the French King to release 
the Huguenots from the galleys, they came forth hag- 
gard, emaciated, covered with sores and bruises, and 
fit only for the hospital or the grave. Over each gal- 



THE HUGUENOTS. 263 

ley was placed a Jesuit priest, as chaplain. He ex- 
hausted his ingenuity in devising fresh torments for 
the Huguenots. To each captive he constantly held 
out the offer of pardon and freedom if he would aban- 
don his religion. Scarcely any accepted the infamous 
offer. 

Those who succeeded in escaping from France found 
a secure refuge in the Protestant cantons of Switzerland, 
in Holland and Germany, and in England. Many even 
crossed the ocean and emigrated to America. In all 
Protestant countries they were received with sym- 
pathy, and were encouraged to establish themselves 
and carry on the industries they had practised in their 
own land. Geneva was especially prominent in wel- 
coming and caring for the exiles. St. Francis de 
Sales, filled with fury at the accounts of the generosity 
of the citizens to the Huguenots, demanded the destruc- 
tion of Geneva. 

The exact number of persons who fled from France 
is not known, but it was very great. Yauban, the 
great engineer, writing a few years after the Revoca- 
tion, said that " France had lost a hundred thousand 
inhabitants, sixty millions of money, nine thousand 
sailors, twelve thousand tried soldiers, six hundred 
officers and its most flourishing manufactures." At the 
time he wrote, the emigration had not assumed the 
proportions it afterwards attained. Sismondi states 
that the emigrants numbered from three to four hun- 
dred thousand, and he gives it as his opinion that as 



264 CROSS AND CROWN. 

many more died in prison, on the scaffold, in the gal- 
leys, or in their attempts to escape. 

The emigration almost destroyed the industry of 
France. Thousands of acres of land remained uncul- 
tivated, entire villages were deserted, and many of the 
large towns lost fully half their population. " The 
skilled Dutch cloth-weavers whom Colbert had induced 
{o settle at Abbeville, emigrated in a body, and the 
manufacture was extinguished. At Tours, where some 
40,000 persons had been employed in the silk manu- 
facture, the number fell to little more than 4000 ; and 
instead of 8000 looms at work, there remained only 
about 100 ; while of 800 mills, 730 were closed. Of 
the 400 tanneries which had before enriched Lorraine, 
"Weiss says there remained but 54 in 1698. The popu- 
lation of Nantes, one of the most prosperous cities of 
France, was reduced from 80,000 to less than one half, 
and a blow was struck at its prosperity from which it 
has not to this day recovered. The Eevocation proved 
almost as fatal to the prosperity of Lyons as it did to 
that of Tours and Nantes. That city had originally 
been indebted for its silk manufactures to the civil and 
religious wars of Sicily, Italy, and Spain, which occa- 
sioned numerous refugees from those countries to settle 
there and carry on their trade. And now, the same 
persecutions which had made the prosperity of Lyons 
threatened to prove its ruin. Of about 12,000 artisans 
employed in the silk manufacture of Lyons, about 
9000 fled into Switzerland and other countries. The 



THE HUGUENOTS. 265 

industry of the place was for a time completely pros- 
trated. More than a hundred years passed before it 
was restored to its former prosperity, and then only to 
suffer another equally staggering blow from the vio- 
lence and outrage which accompanied the outbreak of 
the French Revolution." * 

The industry thus lost to France was transplanted 
to other countries. England, Holland, Switzerland, 
and Protestant Germany were enriched by the skill 
and labor of the exiles. New branches of manufacture 
and commerce were established in those countries, 
which have grown steadily until the present day. 
The real loss of France in this respect can be under- 
stood only by computing the gain to the countries thus 
benefited. Thus did the exiles more than repay the 
kindness and hospitality with which they were met 
by the strangers to whom they fled for shelter. 

* Smiles. A writer in Harper's Magazine says : 

"Nothing is more remarkable in history than the constant hos- 
tility the Church of Kome has always shown toward the working- 
classes— the fatal result of Catholic influence upon industry and 
thrift. Ghent, Bruges, and Antwerp, under the rule of Alva and 
the Jesuits, saw their commerce and manufactures sink forever, and 
their laboring-classes fly to Amsterdam and Leyden. Spain and 
Italy, under the destructive activity of the Popes and the Inquisi- 
tion, were soon reduced from the highest prosperity to a low rank in 
commerce and trade. Swarms of monks and nuns took the place of 
honest laborers, and industry was extirpated to maintain the cor- 
rupted Church. It was only when England ceased to be Catholic 
that it began to lead the world in letters and in energy ; it was when 
Germany had thrown off the papal rule that it produced a Goethe or 
a Schiller, and in the present day the traveller is everywhere struck 



266 CROSS AND CROWJST. 

Nor was the commercial loss the only one experi- 
enced by France. Many of the most gifted men of the 
nation were Huguenots. The best of the schoolmas- 
ters were of the same faith. Others there were who 
were neither Protestant nor Roman Catholic. They 
were, however, men of broad minds and liberal ideas, 
and theylooked with horror upon any species of perse- 
cution. They joined the fugitives, and left their native 
land, where liberty of thought was a crime against the 
Jesuit masters of France. The result was that igno- 
rance began to increase in the kingdom. The Roman 
Church, never a true friend to education, discouraged 
the teaching of the people, and for knowledge dealt out 
to them only superstition. Some of th§ best and 
bravest generals of France were Huguenots. These 
left the country, which thus lost their services. 

by a remarkable dissimilarity. In Catholic Ireland all is sloth and 
decay, empty pride and idle superstition. In Protestant Ireland all 
is life, energy, and progress. A Catholic canton of Switzerland is 
always noted for its degraded laboring-class, their indolence and 
vice. The Protestant cantons abound in all the traits of advance. 
The Eomagna and the Papal States, so long as they remained under 
the rule of the Popes, were the centres of sloth, improvidence, and 
crime, and brigands ruled over desolate fields that might have 
glowed with abundant harvests. In Prance, under Louis XI Y., the 
whole energy of the Jesuits and the king was directed to the ruin of 
the laboring-classes, and their vigorous efforts were followed by a 
signal success. Seldom has so dreadful a revulsion fallen upon the 
industrial population of any nation. It was as if the factories of 
Lowell or Manchester were suddenly closed, and half their popula- 
tion murdered or sent into exile ; as if every Protestant were driven 
from New York, and every warehouse plundered in Boston. " 



THE HUGUENOTS. 267 

In consequence of the flight of the most intelligent 
and industrious part of the population, France fell into 
a decay. During his last years Louis XIV. reaped a 
part of the results of his crime. This period of his 
reign was one of constant humiliation to him. His 
armies were constantly defeated, the best soldiers of 
France being found in the armies of Marlborough and 
Prince Eugene. The genius of the Huguenot Colbert 
no longer directed the finances of the kingdom, and 
ruin and beggary were gathering strength in all parts 
of the land. Paris was full of mendicants. The 
country was drifting rapidly into bankruptcy. The 
mental vigor of the nation had been blasted. Litera- 
ture scarcely existed. The mental despotism of Rome 
weighed down every man of thought, and at length 
produced a Voltaire and a Rousseau. Nothing flour- 
ished but Jesuitism. The terrible order was triumphant, 
but it was at the cost of the glory and power of France. 
The Church was exultant, but France lay prostrate in 
the dust. 

The priests believed that they had succeeded in 
exterminating the Huguenots ; but such was not the 
case. Daring sixty-four years of Jesuit rule (from 
1700 to 1764) the Huguenots who remained in France 
are believed to have numbered over one million of 
people. They dared not show themselves in public as 
Huguenots, or conduct their religious organizations with 
their former freedom. Many of the pastors returned 
and resumed their former charges. Everything had to 



268 CROSS AND CROWN. 

be done in secret, however. The meetings were held 
at night in subterranean vaults, in caves, in the forests, 
and in the mountains. The reading of the Bible by 
individuals could only be carried on by stealth in the 
most private places, and that at the risk of the life of 
the reader. The Jesuits kept a vigilant watch over 
the Reformed. Many were detected and were executed 
or sent to the galleys. They bore their sufferings with 
their customary fortitude. Eighteen Huguenot pastors 
were publicly burned during the reign of Louis XV. 
The Jesuits made war on the Protestant libraries, and 
in 1727 induced the king to issue a decree commanding 
all his subjects to give up their Protestant books. All 
that were thus surrendered were publicly burned. 
" There was an end for a time of political and religious 
liberty in France. Freedom of thought and freedom 
of worship were alike crushed ; and then the new 
epoch began — of mental stagnation, political depravity, 
religious hypocrisy and moral decay. . . . The policy 
of Louis XIV. had succeeded, and France was at length 
6 converted.' Protestantism had been crushed, and the 
Jesuits were triumphant. Their power over the bodies 
and souls of the people was as absolute as the law 
could make it. The whole education of the country 
was placed in their hands, and what the character of 
the next generation was to be depended in a great 
measure upon them. Not only the churches and the 
schools, but even the national prisons were controlled 
by them. They w r ere the confessors of the bastiles, of 



THE HUGUENOTS. 269 

which there were twenty in France, where persons 
could be incarcerated for life on the authority merely 
of lettres de cachet, which were given away or sold. 
Besides the bastiles and the galleys, over which the 
Jesuits presided, there were also the State prisons, of 
which Paris alone contained about thirty, besides con- 
vents, where persons might be immured without any 
sentence. c Surely never,' says Michelet, 6 had man's 
dearest treasure, liberty, been more lavishly squan- 
dered.' " 

Thus, through the reigns of Louis XV. and Louis 
XVI. the Huguenots continued to exist in secret, 
encountering persecutions and trials at almost every 
step. They remained true to the faith for which their 
ancestors had borne so many sufferings, and when the 
Revolution gave them liberty to conduct their worship 
in public again, they emerged from their hiding places 
an organized and faithful Church. 

The persecutions of the Huguenots reacted with ter- 
rible force upon the clergy of the Roman Church. The 
people saw and shuddered at the cruelty of the priests. 
They beheld the Church a corrupt, blood-stained insti- 
tution, which had grown fabulously rich off the plun- 
der stolen from its Huguenot victims. Nine-tenths 
of the evils from which the kingdom suffered could be 
traced directly to the tyranny and intolerance of the 
priests. The monasteries were the abodes of laziness 
and dissoluteness, and dark tales were told of the con- 
vents. Rome had goaded France to the verge of human 



270 CROSS AND CROWN. 

endurance, and the common people, nominally Catho- 
lics, were driven into practical Atheism. They came to 
regard the clergy with a detestation deeper even than 
that which they felt for the nobles. 

When the great storm of the Ee volution burst upon 
France, the people rose in all parts of the land against 
the Church. The sacred edifices were sacked and 
destroyed, priests, monks, and nuns were massacred 
with great cruelty, and hunted through the country 
like wild beasts. Many of them were guillotined, and 
others were chained as the Huguenots had been, and 
sent to Rochelle and the Isle of Aix. All the suffer- 
ings of the Huguenots were now visited unsparingly 
upon the priests, and they were made to drain the 
bitter cup of misery they had once proffered to the lips 
of others. It must not be supposed, however, that the 
persecutors were Huguenots. They were those who 
had been Roman Catholics, but who had been driven 
by the priests into being enemies to all religion. Rome 
had sown France, as a ploughed field, with ignorance 
and misery. It now reaped the terrible harvest it had 
done so much to bring to fruition. The Reign of Ter- 
ror was the legitimate consequence of the Revocation 
of the Edict of Nantes and the persecutions which fol- 
lowed it. 

A second emigration from France now set in — this 
time of priests and nobles. France lost a large pro- 
portion of its people, but it did not experience any of 
the sad consequences which had followed the flight of 



THE HUGUENOTS. 271 

the Huguenots from their native land. The former 
emigration almost ruined France, as we have seen ; the 
latter merely freed it from two classes which had rested 
like a blight upon the country. The second emigration 
was actually a blessing to France, as it prepared the 
way for the new march of progress and enlightenment 
upon which that country embarked at the close of the 
Revolution. 

Under the Republic the Huguenots were allowed 
freedom of conscience and worship. Napoleon I. pro- 
fessed to grant them toleration, but he was not their 
friend. The Restoration gave them a nominal freedom. 
Before this freedom had been fairly secured to them, a 
succession of fearful cruelties was practised by the royal 
officers and Roman Catholic inhabitants of Nismes and 
Uzes upon the Protestants of those places.* The Roman 
Catholics of this part of France exerted themselves to 
the utmost to prevent the grant of liberty of worship 
to the Protestants, and the terrible events of this last 
persecution equal in barbarity and horror any of those 
which we have already recorded. Similar scenes 
occurred in Languedoc and the Yaucluse. The priests 
gave abundant evidence that they were still true to the 
traditional cruelty of Rome, and it required a conside- 
rable exhibition of force on the part of the king to 



* For a detailed account of this persecution, the reader is referred 
to A History of the Huguenots. By W. S. Browning. Philadelphia : 
Lea & Blanchard. 1845. pp. 420 to 437. 



272 CROSS AND CROWN. 

counteract their influence, and execute the law grant- 
ing religious freedom to the Protestants. 

Under the Second Empire the Protestants enjoyed 
greater liberty in France than they had ever known. 
Towards the close of the reign of the Emperor Napo- 
leon III., however, the Jesuits began to increase in 
numbers and power in France. They succeeded in 
winning over the empress to their cause, and, thus 
strengthened, began their old policy of intriguing for 
absolute power in the empire. They gradually obtained 
the possession and control of the schools and colleges 
of the country, and from that moment the standard of 
popular education began to decline. The Jesuits dared 
not at once destroy the system of popular education 
which had sprung up in France under the direction of 
the State, but they set themselves to work to gradually 
lower the standard of the common schools and even 
of the University. They introduced text-books which 
often taught the reverse of the actual facts of history, 
and little by little endeavored to change the course of 
instruction so as to increase their own power. They 
sought to destroy everything like mental vigor and 
original inquiry, well knowing that the spread of free 
and genuine knowledge would be fatal to them. For- 
tunately for France, the empire fell in time to check 
them ; but there is grave reason to fear they may yet 
afflict that unhappy land as grievously as they have 
done in former days. While they had the power under 
the Second Empire, the Jesuits spared no means of 



THE HUGUENOTS. 273 

annoying and embarrassing the Huguenot clergy. 
Their avowed object is to do away with toleration in 
religion, and to make it impossible for a Protestant to 
worship in public in France. Rome has not abandoned 
her old policy of cruelty. She desists from it now 
merely because she is not strong enough to defy public 
opinion by enforcing it ; but she still cherishes the hope 
that the day may return when the expiatory fires will 
again blaze in the towns of Protestant lands, and the 
groans of dying heretics make sweet music in the ears 
of the Supreme Pontiff, who calls himself infallible. 

It is a significant fact, and one which ought to be well 
considered by the Protestants of every land, especially 
of France, that at the Congress of the Roman Catho- 
lic Bishops of Germany, France, Belgium and England, 
at Malines, in 1863, Archbishop Deschamps had the 
boldness to excuse the massacre of St. Bartholomew, 
and to defend the persecution of the Huguenots. 

Neither has the Church of Rome definitely aban- 
doned the Inquisition as a means of punishing heresy. 

18 




II. 

JEAN BRUGIERE. 

HE reign of Francis I., the " chivalrous king 
of France," was marked by many cruelties to 
the people who had embraced the Reformed 
religion. The dawning of the intellectual 
greatness of France, to which the knowledge of the 
Scriptures contributed so much, was watched by the 
clergy with the keenest jealousy. Anything calculated 
to weaken the despotism they had established over 
men, was, of course, distasteful to them, and they 
exerted themselves to destroy the spread of intelligence 
at the outset. The people who embraced the Reformed 
religion, made education a Christian duty. Ignorance was 
to them the mother of all the vices, and they set their 
faces sternly against it. Consequently, in the eyes of the 
priests, learning and Protestanism were almost synony- 
mous terms. Beza tells us that during this reign all 
learning was suspected, and that in consequence of their 
intellectual superiority to their brethren, many " good 
Catholics" were regarded as heretics. Learning, how- 
ever, was not the only offence punished by the priests, 
who seem to have taken a pleasure in inventing pretexts 

for torturing and killing people. Men were liable to 

274 



JEAN BRUGIERE. 275 

be condemned for failing to kneel at the sound of the 
Ave Maria bell, for not lifting their caps on passing 
images of saints and other holy personages, which stood 
at nearly every street corner, and for eating meat on 
fast days. Clement Marot, the psalmist, was detected 
in the act of eating some bacon during Lent. He was 
imprisoned, and narrowly escaped the stake. The 
saddest scenes were constantly being enacted in Paris 
and the other cities of France. Victims were every 
day led to the stake, and it was a relief to the country 
when Francis, yielding to the terrible disease which his 
life of debauchery had fastened upon him, died, and 
thus weakened for a time the power of the persecutors. 
One of the last victims who was martyred during 
this reign was a man named Jean Brugiere. He was 
accused of heresy, and was imprisoned. Being deter- 
mined not to abjure his religion, and at the same time 
being desirous of saving his life, he endeavored to make 
his escape. He was successful, and was able so far to 
elude the royal officers that he enjoyed his liberty for 
some time in peace. He was at length discovered, 
notwithstanding his precautions, and was again arrested 
and imprisoned, but he made his escape a second time. 
This was repeated several times, and at last the officials 
having secured him, bound him heavily with chains, 
and conveyed him to Paris where the prisons were 
stronger. He was brought to trial in Paris, and being 
found guilty of rejecting the religion and doctrines of 
the Roman Catholic Church, was condemned to be 



276 CROSS AND CROWN. 

burned alive. The Court ordered that the sentence 
should be carried into effect at Issoire, a town in the 
south of France. He was at once conveyed from Paris 
to Montferrand, where he was detained until the time 
appointed for his martyrdom. Here the Chief Inqui- 
sitor, Ory, undertook to discuss with him the question 
of the real presence, hoping to win him over to the 
Komish view of that question. Brugiere was firm, how- 
ever, and all the arguments, and even the threats of the 
Inquisitor, were in vain. 

" If you deny," said Ory, in despair of moving him, 
" that the body of our Lord is in the Host, when the 
priest has pronounced the sacramental words, you deny 
the power of God, who can do everything." 

" I do not deny the power of God," answered Bru- 
giere, " for we are not disputing whether God has power 
or not to do .it, so much as what He has done in His 
Holy Sacrament, and what He desires us to do." 

There being no hope of converting him, there was 
nothing left to the priests but to hasten forward his 
execution. From Montferrand, which is now a suburb 
of the flourishing city of Clermont-Ferrand, to Issoire, 
is a distance of twenty-six miles. On the 2nd of 
March, 1547, Jean Brugiere was led out from his prison, 
and given in charge of the guards who were to convey 
him to the stake. A number of priests accompanied 
him. They passed quickly over the road between the 
two places, and soon reached Issoire, which lies in a 
deep valley on the River Creuze. Here the martyr 



JEAN BRUGIERE. 277 

passed his last night on earth, and the next day, March 
3rd, was put to death. 

A number of priests had accompanied him from the 
fortress of Montferrand, and these went with him to the 
stake. All the way they urged him to recant and save 
himself, but he answered firmly that he was not afraid 
to die, and could not be induced to peril his soul by a 
recantation. 

The stake had been set up in the market-place, 
and a crowd of people had collected about it to witness 
the execution. They were silent and thoughtful, and 
regarded the martyr with a curious interest. One of 
the priests approached Brugiere as he reached the stake, 
and held the crucifix to his lips, urging him to call on 
the Virgin and the saints to sustain him. The martyr 
gently thrust him aside, saying, with a smile : 

" Let me think of God before I die. I am content 
with the only advocate He has appointed for sinners." 

Then turning to the executioner, bade him, with a 
cheerful voice, do his duty. The calmness and serenity 
of the martyr evidently disconcerted the executioner, 
for he went about the work of chaining him to the 
stake in an awkward, hesitating manner. Suddenly he 
slipped and fell full length at Brugiere's feet. The 
latter, smiling, held out his hand to assist him to rise, 
saying: 

" Cheer up ! M. Pouchet, I hope you are not hurt." 

The executioner soon completed his task, and then 
descending to the ground, applied the fire to the pile. 



278 CR OSS AND CR WN. 

As the dry wood kindled, Brugiere raised his eyes to 
heaven, and exclaimed in a tranquil voice, which was 
audible in all parts of the square : 

" Oh, Heavenly Father, I beseech Thee, for the love 
of Thy Son, that Thou wilt be pleased to comfort me 
in this hour by Thy Holy Spirit, in order that the work 
begun in me may be perfected to Thy glory and to the 
benefit of Thy poor Church. " 

The flame and the smoke soon silenced him. Yet 
he uttered not a cry nor a groan. Little by little the 
fire did its work, and at length the brave, patient soul 
took its fligl ': from the charred and blackened body, to 
be clothed in Heaven in the new robes which had been 
washed and made white in the blood of the Lamb. 

When it was all over, the crowd which had watched 
the sad scene in the deepest silence, went sadly away, 
pitying the brave sufferer, praising his patience and 
firmness, and wondering if, after all, he was not right 
in his belief who could die like a Christian, as this man 
had done. 

The parish priest of Issoire, who had taken no part 
in the persecution, but who had witnessed the martyr- 
dom, was profoundly moved by the spectacle. As he 
went home, he said, earnestly : 

"May God give me grace to die in the faith of 
Brugiere." 



III. 

PHILIPPA DE LUNZ. 

fed 1| URING the reign of Henry II. Paris was a very 
different city from the gay and beautiful capital 
of to-day. The streets were narrow and crooked, 
unpaved, and unlighted at night. The houses 
were tall, dark, and picturesque, and were constructed 
with a view to securing the inmates from the annoy- 
ances which the constant street brawls would have 
inflicted upon them but for this precaution. There 
were but few windows looking into the streets, and the 
only lights to be seen along the thoroughfares were the 
lamps which burned before the images of the Virgin 
and the saints at the street corners, and which served 
as guides to the belated pedestrian. The construction 
of the streets, the arrangement of the buildings, and 
the gloom which enshrouded them at night gave ample 
opportunity for the brawls and scenes of violence which 
were of constant occurrence. Within the city crime 
and lawlessness were rife. The great nobles set the 
common people the example of violence, and the latter 
were not slow to profit by the lesson. During the reign 
of Henry II. Paris was noted for its lawlessness. The 

persecutions which had been put in force against the 

279 



280 CROSS AND CROWN. 

Keformers had been attended with so many scenes of 
violence and wrong that the people had become to a 
certain extent demoralized, or rather trained to dis- 
regard the rights of others. 

This state of affairs was made worse by the effect 
upon the people of the national disasters. The French 
army in Italy, under the Duke of Guise, was being 
steadily beaten by the Spanish, under the Duke of Alva, 
and the kingdom itself had been invaded by the best 
army of Spain, led by the great Duke of Savoy, Em- 
manuel Philibert. This force penetrated as far as the 
town of St. Quentin, within one hundred English miles 
of Paris. The Constable Montmorency marched to 
the relief of the place, but was terribly defeated and 
taken prisoner on the 10th of August, 1557. So com- 
plete was his defeat that there was scarcely any force 
left to bar the road to Paris against the Spaniards. On 
the 27th of August, the fortress of St. Quentin sur- 
rendered, and the Spaniards were absolute masters of 
north-eastern France. These reverses, coming so 
quickly upon each other, threw Paris into a fever of 
excitement. 

The priests, finding that the national troubles had 
had the effect of drawing off attention from the Ee- 
formers, and thus for a time giving them a respite from 
suffering, now resolved that these very troubles should 
be the means of renewing the persecution in a more 
violent form than it had yet assumed. They declared 
from their pulpits and on the streets that such disasters 



PHILIPPA BE LUNZ. 281 

were direct punishments from heaven for permitting 
heretics to live in France. " God is punishing us," 
they cried, " because we have not avenged his honor.' , 
The only way to regain the divine favor, they said, and 
to avert fresh disasters at the hands of the Spaniards, 
was to renew the effort to exterminate the heretics, and 
to show them no mercy. Their furious appeals to the 
people were entirely successful. The Parisians were 
wrought up to such a pitch of frenzy and apprehension 
that they were ready to follow the priests in any act 
of cruelty to the Reformed. 

On the left or south bank of the Seine, in one of the 
suburbs of the city, stood a house belonging to one of 
the Reformers. This gentleman being sincerely at- 
tached to his religion, had, sometime previous, offered 
his house as a place of religious meeting to his brethren 
in the faith. The offer had been accepted, and several 
meetings had been held there. The suspicions of the 
Catholic neighbors had been aroused by the unusual 
number of persons coining to the house, and the priests 
had caused it to be closely watched. At last they 
were satisfied that it was one of the secret places of 
worship used by the Reformers. They at once pre- 
pared to raise the populace against the " Lutherans," as 
they termed the Reformers, and to attack the house 
at the next meeting, and massacre all who should be 
found within it. 

On the night of the 4th of September, 1557, a meet- 
ing of the Reformed was held at this house. It was 



282 CROSS AND CROWN. 

attended by nearly four hundred persons. The ma- 
jority of the men were persons of rank, or gentle- 
men of wealth and position, and the women were 
nearly all of the upper classes, some of them being 
ladies in attendance upon the queen. They were con- 
stantly receiving new additions to their number, and 
the meeting in question was one of the largest they 
had ever held. Sentinels were posted at the doors to 
guard against a surprise, and the worship began. It 
was conducted quietly, and with great caution, and at 
the close of it all present partook of the Lord's Supper. 
Then a hymn was sung, a prayer was said, and the 
meeting was brought to a close. The worshippers lin- 
gered for a few minutes after the services were over, 
to exchange friendly greetings, and were about to 
separate, when one of the sentinels rushed in, pale and 
breathless, and cried out that the Rue St. Jacques, the 
street in front of the house, was filled with a large 
mob headed by a number of monks. From the win- 
dows of the house, the worshippers could see the mob 
filling up the street, armed and provided with blazing 
torches, and could hear the hoarse cry of " Death to 
the traitors ! Down with the Lutherans ! " At the 
same moment the mob surged heavily toward the 
house, and a sharp attack was made upon the doors, 
with the intention of forcing them. 

A few of the gentlemen of the congregation were 
armed, their rank entitling them to wear swords. 
They at once sprang to the door, and resolutely held 



PHILIP PA DE LUNZ. 283 

the crowd at bay. By the direction of these gentle- 
men the elders and the women passed into the gardens, 
hoping to escape through them into the fields which 
lay behind them. To their dismay, however, they 
found that the garden gates were held by armed men, 
whose torches they could see gleaming beyond the 
walls. Which ever way they turned, they could see 
the glare of hostile torches, and hear the hoarse cry of 
" Death to the Lutherans ! " The priests had resolved 
to do their work well, and had surrounded the place 
on all sides, cutting off every avenue of escape. There 
was no other course for the fugitives but to return to 
the house and await the result of the attack. Accord- 
ingly they made their way back without delay. 

Their reappearance in the house greatly disheart- 
ened the gentlemen who had undertaken the defence. 
It showed them the completeness of the plans of the 
priests, and convinced them that unless they could 
secure aid from without there was no hope of defeating 
the attack of the mob. The fate in store for them was 
death at the hands of the rioters — perhaps worse treat- 
ment for the women. The mob now was very formid- 
able, and might at any moment break in the doors and 
overcome the efforts of the defenders. If the defence 
could be protracted until morning it would accomplish 
nothing, for as soon as the gates of the city should be 
opened the whole of the rabble of Paris would come 
pouring out to join in the attack, and the massacre 
which would ensue. There was but one thing to do to 



284 CROSS AND CROWN. 

gain relief — to seek the protection of the magistrates at 
once. It would be better to fall into the hands of the 
civil authorities than into those of the mob. Several 
gallant gentlemen volunteered to go immediately to 
the Hotel de Ville to inform the magistrates of their 
danger. They took a tender leave of their friends 
within, and drawing their swords, and tightening their 
belts, prepared to start on their dangerous mission. 
The doors were suddenly thrown open, and the hand- 
ful of brave men threw themselves gallantly into the 
crowd, clearing a passage through it with their keen 
rapiers. The suddenness and vigor of their attack 
completely disconcerted the cowardly ruffians, and the 
mob opened right and left and gave them an almost 
undisputed passage. Gaining the street, they hastened 
along it to the city gate, losing one of their number 
in the effort, and at last reached the Hotel de Ville, 
where they gave warning of the danger which threat- 
ened their friends. 

Those left in the house could hear the shouts and 
cries in the street as their friends passed out, but they 
were unable to tell whether they had succeeded in 
reaching the city. The rioters continued their attack 
all through the night, accompanying it with the most 
blasphemous cries and insulting threats. The priests 
stood by, urging them to continue their work, and to 
root out heresy from the land. All through the long 
night, the worshippers waited in a trembling suspense. 
They made constant prayer to God, and at times one 




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ILnJ! 



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PEILIPPA DE LUNZ. 285 

of their number would read aloud some consolatory 
chapter of the New Testament to cheer and strengthen 
them. Frequently the voice of the reader was drowned 
in the furious yells of the mob. 

At last the morning came. The day broke over 
Paris, and the city gates were opened. In a short 
while other rioters ripe for murder and plunder would 
come to the aid of those already engaged in the attack, 
and then a few minutes would end it all. Already the 
heavy door was quivering beneath the blows which 
were dealt it. The next instant it fell with a crash, 
and with a loud cheer the mob dashed into the build- 
ing. The worshippers gave themselves up as lost, but 
at this moment the quick, clanging step of men at 
arms was heard, and a detachment of the City Guard 
came up at a run and took possession of the house, 
expelling the rioters, and making prisoners of the Re- 
formers. The latter were formed in line under the 
escort of the soldiers, and marched off to prison. The 
crowd followed them all the way, pelting them with 
mud and stones, and insulting them with the coarsest 
taunts and jeers. They were conducted to the Grand 
Chatelet, the most terrible prison in Paris, and there 
thrown into filthy dungeons, from which the vilest 
criminals had been removed to make way for them. 
These dungeons were so dark and gloomy that the 
light of day scarcely ever penetrated to them. They 
were so small that they were utterly incapable of 
accommodating the large number of prisoners thus 



286 CROSS AND CROWN. 

suddenly thrown into them, and the captives were 
crowded so close together that they could neither sit 
nor lie down. 

The Reformed Church of Paris was thrown into the 
greatest consternation and grief by the arrest and im- 
prisonment of so many of its members. Every family 
addressed itself to God in prayer for the delivery of 
the martyrs. A petition was presented to the king, 
praying for mercy to the captives, but he threw it 
aside without noticing it. 

The priests and their followers were exultant at 
their success in capturing so many heretics. They 
were considerably vexed at the delay of the civil 
authorities who were in no hurry to bring the prison- 
ers to trial, and they busied themselves with keeping 
alive the popular fury against the poor captives, so 
that there might be no chance of their escape. They 
denounced them and all who sympathized with them 
from their pulpits and in private, and kept the walls of 
the city covered with inflammatory placards. They 
were anxious that the whole number of prisoners 
should be compelled to abjure their faith or be burned, 
and they gloated with barbarous joy over the prospect 
of burning so many heretics at once. 

The prisoners were kept in the Chatelet for nearly a 
year, and then were brought out for trial. They were 
guilty of heresy, and of violating the law which for- 
bade such assemblies as they had been engaged in 
under penalty of death. They admitted their guilt. 



PHILIPPA DE LUNZ. 287 

They were then offered their lives and liberty if they 
would abjure their faith and be reconciled to the 
Church of Rome. They unanimously refused the 
offer, and were sent back to prison, from which a 
number of them passed to martyrdom. 

One of the captives taken at the meeting was a 
young widow of good family and great beauty. She 
was named Philippa de Lunz, and was only twenty- 
two years old. Her husband had been dead but a 
short time, and had been a devoted member of the 
Reformed Church. His last charge to her had been 
to be true to her faith, and to endure persecution and 
even death, rather than abandon it. Throughout her 
short widowhood, she had been conspicuous for her 
devotion to the Church, and had shrunk from no 
danger which attended the exercise of her religion. 
During the attack of the mob she had displayed unsual 
firmness, exhorting the timid to be brave, and all 
through her long imprisonment she had set a noble 
example to her fellow-captives of patient and un- 
daunted suffering for Christ's sake. Her relatives 
and friends in Paris made great efforts to save her 
from the fate which awaited her, and she was several 
times called before the judges and questioned, in the 
hope of inducing her to recant and save her life. She 
was not willing to accept any compromise, however. 
Her religion, she said, had been full of the sweetest 
comfort to her. It had sustained her amid the sorrows 
of her widowhood, and the trials of her captivity, and 



288 CROSS AND CROWN. 

she was assured that it would reunite her with her 
husband in the Kingdom of God. Not for all the 
world would she exchange it for life, or for any thing 
her judges could offer her. Finding all their efforts in 
vain, the judges sentenced her to be burned. Then 
she was taken back to prison. 

On the 27th of September, 1558, after an imprison- 
ment of more than a year, Madame de Lunz was led 
out to die. Before leaving the prison, she put off all 
signs of mourning from her dress, and arrayed herself 
in the best garments left her. One of her companions, 
in surprise, asked her the meaning of this act, and of 
her joyful air. 

"Why should I not rejoice?" she said. "I am 
going to meet my husband." 

She was conducted to the entrance of the prison by 
the jailor, and there she found Nicholas Clinet, a 
schoolmaster, and Taurin Gravelle, an advocate, both 
elders in the Reformed Church, who were to suffer 
death in company with her. A tumbril was in wait- 
ing at the prison gate to convey them to the stake, and 
the street without was filled with a noisy, exultant 
mob which had collected to follow the victims to their 
death. By the terms of their barbarous sentence their 
tongues were to be cut out before leaving the prison, in 
order to prevent them from praying aloud, or address- 
ing the people on their way to the stake. As Madame 
de Lunz approached, the executioner seeing all of his 
victims present, laid his hand upon one of the men, and 



PHILIPPA DE LUNZ. 289 

ordered him to submit to the sentence of the court. 
The next moment he had seized the martyr's tongue 
and cut it off at the roots. The other victim shared 
the same fate. Then, turning to Madame de Lunz, he 
said to her, roughly : 

" Put out your tongue, woman!" 

She did so immediately, and the executioner, struck 
with admiration for her intrepidity, exclaimed : 

" Come ! that's well done, truande ; you are not 
afraid, then ?" 

" As I do not fear for my body," she replied, firmly, 
"why should I fear for my tongue ?" 

The next moment the wretch threw her bleeding 
tongue at her feet. 

Thus mutilated, the martyrs were thrust into the 
cart, and bound with the same chain. The cart jolted 
heavily over the rough streets, causing them no little 
suffering. They were powerless to speak to each other, 
and they each passed the time in prayer. The crowd 
followed the cart, yelling and hooting, and brutally 
calling to the victims to speak to them, and in this 
rabble, mingling with the vilest of the vile, were the 
priests and monks of the Church of Home whose bloody 
work this was. 

The spot appointed for the execution was the Place 

Maubert. A pile of fagots had been thrown up in the 

centre, and around this was gathered a crowd of the 

very scum of Paris, dancing, singing, and screaming 

for blood. At a distant window overlooking the scene, 
19 



290 CROSS AND CROWN. 

stood the king, accompanied by a number of priests^ 
who had brought him there to witness the execution. 

Madame de Lunz, by a refinement of cruelty, was 
reserved unto the last. The two men were placed on 
the pile before her, and burned to death. As the 
flames seized their bodies already weakened by pain 
and loss of blood they gave utterance to the most pierc- 
ing shrieks, and writhed in horrible agony. Madame 
de Lunz all this while maintained her firmness un- 
shaken. Shutting her eyes to the tortures of her 
companions, she found comfort and support in earnest 
prayer. 

At length her turn came. Two of the executioners 
approaching her, seized her roughly in their arms, tear- 
ing her clothing from her as they did so, and shame- 
fully exposing her person. Holding her in their arms 
they thrust her feet into the glowing coals of the pile 
on which her companions had died, and held them 
there until they were burnt through to the bone. 
Then reversing her position they placed her head 
downward, and held her so until her scalp was burned 
off and her eyes scorched out. Even then she was 
alive, and was supporting her sufferings with heaven- 
given strength. Finding that they had not killed 
her, and being sickened with their horrid work, the 
wretches strangled her, and threw her body into the 
flames, which soon consumed it. 

That night the priests boasted throughout Paris that 
they had sent another heretic to hell. It was a boast 



PH1LIPPA DE LUNZ. 291 

worthy of its authors. But theirs were not the only 
thanks that ascended to heaven for the martyrdom of 
the brave woman and her companions. The prayers 
of the Church for which she had died were full of 
thanksgivings for that God, in His infinite mercy, had 
seen fit to give them the example of her life and death, 
that those who were left behind might be encouraged 
by it to be true to their duty even though it should 
lead them to a similar fate. 




IV. 

DUMONT DE BOSTAQUET. 

BOUT eight leagues from the town of Dieppe, in 
Nothern France, in the old Province of Nor- 
mandy, stood the ancient chateau of La Fonte- 
laye. It was a fine old pile, standing in the 
midst of a large domain, and had for centuries been 
the ancestral home of the noble family of De Bosta- 
quet. At the period of .which we write, the middle 
of the seventeenth century, the owner of the domain 
was Isaac Dumont de Bostaquet, a worthy representa- 
tive of his ancient house. He had been well educated 
in his youth, and had served with considerable distinc- 
tion in the French army as an officer of Norman horse. 
After some years of military life, he had sold his com- 
mission, had settled down on his estates, and had 
married. Since then he led the life of a country 
gentleman of fortune and education. He had been 
married three times, and his family consisted of six 
daughters and one son by his first wife, six children by 
his second wife, and two sons and three daughters by 
his third wife. 

He had been educated in the Reformed faith, and 
being a man of education had devoted himself to the 

292 



DUMONT DE BO ST A QUE T. 293 

study of its doctrines. He was therefore well grounded 
in the history and theology of the Reformation, and 
withal a faithful student and zealous defender of the 
Sacred Scriptures, and his religious convictions were of 
a character not easily shaken. He was regarded by his 
brethren of the Reformed faith as one of their leaders, 
and his influence among them was very great. Hap- 
pily for him, the location of his home exempted him 
from any very active participation in the questions 
of the day. He heard from time to time rumors of the 
troubles with which other portions of the Church 
were visited, but he and his neighbors were allowed to 
exercise their religion in peace. 

About the year 1661, however, these rumors began 
to increase. The persecution of the Huguenots became 
more general and open, and there were signs that 
Normandy would not long escape the malice of the 
Jesuits. The Roman Catholics, encouraged and pro- 
tected by the king, had already begun to demolish 
Protestant churches in various parts of the country, 
and it was intimated that there were several in Nor- 
mandy which would soon share the same fate. One of 
those thus doomed was the church of Lindebceuf in 
which De Bostaquet and his family worshipped. The 
indignation of the old soldier was aroused by this 
rumor, and he set out for Paris at once, for the purpose 
of procuring a royal order forbidding the demolition of 
the church. He was warmly received by his old com- 
mander, Marshal Turenne, who aided him in submit- 



294 CROSS AND CROWN. 

ting his request to the king's ministers. The ministers 
put him off with vague promises, and being unable to 
accomplish anything satisfactory, he set out on his 
return home. 

Upon reaching his chateau he was informed that his 
mission to the capital had been utterly useless, for the 
Romanists had destroyed the church at Lindebceuf 
during his absence. Indignant at this, he called on 
the local authorities, and protested vigorously against 
the outrage. The magistrates heard him with the 
courtesy due to his rank, and then told him that they 
could afford him no satisfaction. The king, they in- 
formed him, was determined to make the exercise of 
the Protestant worship impossible in France, and thus 
compel all Frenchmen to conform to the king's religion. 
De Bostaquet was not ready to abandon his faith yet, 
and he at once fitted up a temporary chapel in his 
chateau of La Fontelaye, where he assembled the con- 
gregation that had worshipped at Lindebceuf. Here 
for many years the Huguenots of the district conducted 
their worship in peace and safety, and when emergency 
required it the master of the chateau preached to them, 
baptized their children, and performed the other offices 
of religion. 

During all this while the persecutions of the French 
Protestants increased, as we have related elsewhere. 
Church after church was pulled down, and so many 
restrictions were laid upon the Huguenots, that it 
ibecame almost impossible to conduct their worship 



DUMONT DE BOSTAQUET. 295 

with any degree of publicity. De Bostaquet was not 
a heedless observer of the signs of the times, and he 
saw that the Church in France was falling upon evil 
days. He frequently contemplated disposing of his 
property, and emigrating to Holland, where he could 
enjoy his religion in peace ; but his large posessions 
and numerous family bound him to his old home by 
ties which could not be easily severed. His wife and 
children were bitterly opposed to leaving their country, 
and he was compelled to remain, and await the trial of 
his faith, which he saw approaching. 

At last the evil day came. The king revoked the 
Edict of Nantes, and turned the Jesuits and the 
dragoons upon France to compel the Huguenots to 
become Romanists. Until now Normandy had been 
free from the visitations of the troops, but now a 
regiment of cuirassiers was sent into the province, and 
the work of converting the Huguenots was formally 
begun. The method of conducting these conversions 
was as follows. The parish priest, or some other 
zealous Papist, would hand to the officer commanding 
the dragoons a list of the names of the Protestants 
residing in the parish. To each one of these a com- 
missary would be sent to ask if the person was willing 
to abjure his, faith and embrace Romanism. If the 
answer was a refusal to recant, it was reported by the 
commissary to the military commander, who at once 
sent a detachment of dragoons to take up their quar- 
ters in the house of the heretic. The troops were 



296 CROSS AND CROWN. 

at liberty to demand what they chose from the master 
of the house, who was obliged to furnish it to them 
on pain of imprisonment and confiscation of his 
property. The troops had orders to make their de- 
mands as burdensome as possible. They insulted, and 
sometimes brutally outraged, the female members of 
the family, and punished any interference of their 
male relatives with blows. They broke up the furni- 
ture, destroyed the provisions, stole the plate, jewels 
and money of the family, and conducted themselves 
in the most brutal and offensive manner towards 
every member of the household. Any resistance to 
these outrages was a crime against the king and was 
severely punished, if indeed the offender was unfortu- 
nate enough to escape death on the spot at the hands 
of the soldiers. The Koman Catholic Church had with 
devilish ingenuity devised this system of torture as 
most likely to shake the constancy of those who resis- 
ted its demands. It was a most efficacious system. 
Thousands of conversions were made in a single day at 
the mere sight of the dragoons, who were feared and 
cursed all over France as much as ever the priests had 
been. As soon as a person subjected to the torments 
of the dragoons signed his abjuration, the soldiers were 
removed and sent to torture some one else. 

Upon the receipt of news of the advance of the 
dragoons, De Bostaquet called a meeting of the Protes- 
tant gentry of the neighborhood, to consider what was 
best to be done. They met at his chateau, and he 



DUMONT DE BOSTAQUET. 297 

declared to them his firm resolve to leave France if the 
king should continue the barbarous measures he had 
inaugurated. All present praised his resolution, but 
all declined to accompany him. His eldest son, who 
had been married a few months before, refused to go 
with him. His wife, on the eve of another confine- 
ment, declared that it would be impossible for her to 
accompany him, and his children, with tears, added 
their entreaties to hers, that he would not leave them. 
Thus entreated, De Bostaquet was obliged to abandon 
his intention to fly, feeling that it was, after all, his 
duty to remain and protect his family. 

In a few days intelligence was received at La Fonte- 
laye that the dragoons, under the Marquis de Beau- 
pre Choiseul, had occupied the city of Rouen, and that 
the quartering of the dragoons upon the people had 
converted nearly every Protestant in the city; that 
the office of the king's representative was daily 
thronged with persons eager to sign their abjurations, 
the only means of ridding themselves of the soldiers. 
These tidings filled De Bostaquet with the gravest 
concern, and he determined to go to Rouen, and satisfy 
himself of the condition of affairs there. Upon reach- 
ing that city he found the dragoons in full posses- 
sion. Every one was in the greatest consternation. 
He did not see a cheerful countenance in the city. 
The people seemed anxious to rid themselves of the 
soldiers at any cost, and in nearly every instance 
where this method of conversion had been tried he 



298 CROSS AND CROWN. 

found it had been successful. Even his brother-in-law, 
M. de Lamberville, whom he had regarded as one of 
the staunchest Protestants in the kingdom, had given 
way and abjured. The soldiers were brutal and inso- 
lent, and he could not wonder at the feverish anxiety 
of the people to be rid of them, although he thought 
the price paid for this exemption too dear. At every 
step he beheld some scene or heard some tale of 
violence and outrage which aroused his indignation 
and excited his apprehension for the fate of his own 
family. 

He quitted the city with a heavy heart, though glad 
to escape from witnessing scenes which filled him with 
the profoundest grief. Upon reaching La Fontelaye 
his family surrounded him with eager questions as to 
what he had witnessed in Rouen. His recital of the 
horrors of the dragonnades in that city filled them 
with the deepest concern, but they declared they would 
remain faithful to their religion whatever might be the 
consequences. De Bostaquet cherished the hope that, 
as he belonged to the nobility, he would escape the 
indignity to which those inferior to him in rank had 
been subjected, and that no troops would be quartered 
in his family. He was soon undeceived, however. 
The Sieur Chavel, of Rouen, had thirty horsemen 
quartered upon him until he and his lady abjured. 
De Bostaquet had hardly received this information, 
which put an end to his hope, when a message arrived 
from the commandant at Rouen that unless he and 



DUMONT DE BOSTAQUET. 299 

his family should sign their abjuration within a 
given time, twenty-five dragoons would be quartered 
in his chateau. The crisis had now conie, and he 
must meet it. He was in an agony of dread and 
indecision. His wife was near her confinement, and he 
"feared the effect of the presence of the brutal soldiery 
upon her; his family consisted largely of daughters, 
and he trembled at the thought of admitting these 
wretches into his home. Once there he could not 
control them, and he had seen enough in Kouen to 
make him dread the worst. It was a sore trial to him. 
In the midst of this hesitation the thought occurred to 
him that by signing the abjuration required of him he 
would not relinquish his faith, or be compelled to 
attend Mass. The act of signing was merely a form, 
merely a disagreeable price to pay for exemption from 
the dragonnade. Influenced by this false reasoning, 
Be Bostaquet wavered, and at length yielded. He went 
to Dieppe with his eldest son, and signed his abjuration. 
He had no peace within himself after this. He did 
not intend to go to Mass or to give up his religion, 
and he felt that he had put his signature to a lie. In 
his own eyes he felt degraded. He reproached him- 
self bitterly for his weakness, and as he went back 
home, could scarcely look his neighbors in the face for 
very shame. But his neighbors were as weak them- 
selves. All his intimate friends signed the abjuration, 
even his father-in-law, who was so crippled with the 
gout that he could scarcely hold a pen. His mother- 



300 CROSS AND CROWN. 

in-law also signed, but she was so shocked and grieved 
by the sin she felt she had committed, that she fell ill 
and died. In a short while a company of dragoons 
made their appearance at La Fontelaye, and required 
the abjuration of each member of the family. De 
Bostaquet's wife, his mother, his sons and daughters, 
and his servants were all compelled to sign with their 
own hands. 

" The sad state to which my soul was reduced," says 
De Bostaquet, in his memoirs, " and the general deso- 
lation of the Church, occasioned me the profoundest 

grief. All feeling equally criminal, we no longer 

enjoyed that tranquillity of mind which before had 
made us happy. God seemed to have hid himself from 
us : and though by our worship, which we continued 
publicly to celebrate, we might give evidence of the 
purity of our sentiments and the sincerity of our 
repentance, my crime never ceased to weigh upon my 
mind, and I bitterly reproached myself for having set 
so bad an example before my family as well as my 

neighbors But I could not entertain without 

grief the thought of my children being exposed to the 
danger of falling a prey to those demons, who might 
any moment have carried them away from me. I 
was constantly meditating flight ; but the flesh fought 
against the spirit, and the fear of abandoning this large 
family, together with the difficulty I saw before me of 
providing a subsistence for them in a foreign land, 
held me back ; though I still watched for a favorable 



DUMONT BE BOSTA Q UET. 301 

opportunity for escaping from France by which time I 
hoped to be enabled to provide myself with money by 
the sale of my property." 

De Bostaquet's wish to fly from France was now 
shared by his whole family. All were anxious to go, 
and to go with the least possible delay. But in those 
days travelling was very difficult, and the removal of 
so large a family a most formidable undertaking. Be- 
sides, Louis XI Y. having resolved that his Huguenot 
subjects should not escape, but should remain where 
he could torment them, had caused the coast to be vigi- 
lantly watched, and every road leading to the frontier 
was held by an armed force. De Bostaquet might well 
be appalled at the prospect of carrying such a family 
as his out of the kingdom, but as he lived so near to 
the coast, he hoped to be able to find a ship whose 
master would be willing to land them on the English 
shore. He endeavored to send his daughters away 
first, so that he might make sure of their safety, and 
went several times with them to ports on the Channel, 
hoping to find a ship. He did not succeed, and he 
found that the coast was even more strictly guarded 
than he had supposed. The only result of these jour- 
neys was the betrayal of his scheme to the Command- 
ant of Dieppe, who being friendly to him sent him a 
private warning, informing him of the risk he ran of 
being informed against, and of having his property 
confiscated, and himself sent to the galleys. The 
danger was now great indeed. The ladies of the 



302 CROSS AND CROWN. 

family became more urgent in their entreaties, declar- ' 
ing that their consciences would not permit them to 
withhold the public profession of their real faith any 
longer. They felt their present condition to be one of 
degradation, and they were resolved to escape from it 
at any risk. De Bostaquet at once began the task of 
converting his property into money ; but before he had 
made satisfactory arrangements for so doing, the family 
resolved to fly without delay. The feast of Pentecost 
was at hand, and on that day the peasantry detailed to 
guard the coast would be withdrawn to take part in 
the festivities. It was resolved that the father should 
conduct his daughters and some of the children, and 
his mother to the coast, see them safe on board the 
ship in which they hoped to cross over to England, 
and then return to the chateau, to watch over his wife 
during her approaching confinement, and to conclude 
the sale of his property. 

Pentecost Sunday came bright and clear. The whole 
family assembled together for morning worship, and 
invoked the protection and blessing of God for their 
enterprise. The rest of the morning was passed in the 
final preparations for the journey and in taking leave 
of those who were to remain behind, and after dinner 
the fugitives began their flight. The party consisted 
of De Bostaquet, his aged mother, the grown daugh- 
ters, and a number of the younger children, including 
the youngest son. They proceeded without adventure 
to the village of La Haliere, where they passed the 



DUMONT DE BOSTAQUET. 303 

night, De Bostaquet pressing on to St. Aubin, to en- 
gage passage for them in an English vessel about to 
sail from that port. He reached St. Aubin in safety, 
and arranged with the master of the vessel to take 
them on board. The vessel was to lie off the coast 
near Flainville, and to send a boat at a designated 
time to a spot on the shore, where the fugitives were 
to be in waiting. Having accomplished this, De Bos- 
taquet returned to his family, who had gone on to 
Luneray. 

The next night at ten o'clock, the fugitives set out 
from Luneray for the coast, accompanied by a number 
of friends and many others who like themselves were 
trying to escape from France. De Bostaquet led the 
way, with his sister mounted behind him on a pillion. 
Next came his son-in-law De Renfreville, with his wife 
behind him, and De Bostaquet's mother, an old lady 
of eighty, was given a gentle pony led by two peas- 
ants. The rest of the party were also mounted, and 
the rear was brought up by a valet, who rode another 
nag, and who was armed with a musketoon. They 
took the road for St. Aubin, and on their way thither 
were joined by some of their relatives : M. de Mont- 
cornet, an old officer of the French army, and M. 
de Bequigny, De Bostaquet's brother-in-law, who was 
accompanied by a German valet with a young lady 
behind him on a pillion. On their route, they encoun- 
tered more than three hundred persons bound for the 
seacoast, some for St. Aubin and some for Quiberville. 



304 CROSS AND CROWN. 

These were mostly peasants, there being only a few 
persons of quality among them. The night was clear 
and cool, and the whole party pushed forward rapidly, 
hoping to gain the coast at the appointed time. They 
passed through the village of Avremenil, the inhabit- 
ants coming out to see them go by, and to wish them 
God-speed. Just beyond this place De Bostaquet re- 
ceived a message that his sister-in-law, Madame de 
Koncheraye, with her three children and one of his 
own daughters, and a young lady from Eouen, were 
approaching in a carriage to join them. As they 
begged him to wait for them, he checked the pace of 
his party, and in a short while the ladies arrived. 
The route was then continued through Flainville, and 
at length the seashore was reached. The coast guard 
station was empty, and there w T ere no signs of the 
guard in any quarter. Encouraged by this, the party 
alighted from their horses, and sat down on the hard 
dry sand to rest. De Bostaquet was greatly disap- 
pointed at seeing no signs of the vessel. The ship 
was at that moment hovering off the coast, hidden 
from them by the darkness, and waiting for a signal 
from them to send her boats ashore. De Bostaquet 
had not supposed that a signal would be required, and 
consequently none was given. The party remained 
waiting on the sands for some time, and at length De 
Bostaquet began to suspect that the master of the ship 
had failed to fulfil his agreement. He now went to 
speak to his sister-in-law, who had remained in her 



D UMONT DE BOSTAQ UET. 305 

carriage, which had not been able to get within several 
hundred yards of the shore. While he was there the 
party on the shore was surprised and attacked by the 
coast guard and the peasantry, who had returned to 
their stations. What followed is thus related in his 
own words : 

"A peasant called out to me that there was a great 
disturbance going forward ; and soon after I heard the 
sound of drums beating, followed by the discharge of 
musketry. It immediately occurred to me that it must 
be the coast guard returned to occupy their post, who 
had fallen upon our party, and I began to fear that we 
were irretrievably lost. I was on foot alone, with my 
little son, near the carriage. I did not then see two 
horsemen coming down upon us at full speed, but I 
heard voices crying with all their might, 'Help! help!' 
I found myself in a strange state of embarrassment, 
without means of defence, when my lackey, who was 
holding my horses on the beach, ran towards me with 
my arms. 

" I had only time to throw myself on my horse, and 
call out to my sister-in-law in the carriage to turn 
back quickly, when I hastened, pistol in hand, to the 
place whence the screams proceeded. Scarce was I 
clear of the carriage when a horseman shouted, ' Kill ! 
kill ! ' I answered, ' Fire, rascal ! ' At the same mo- 
ment he fired his pistol full at me, so near that the dis- 
charge flashed along my left cheek and set fire to my 
peruke, but without wounding me. I was still so near 

20 



306 CROSS AND CROWN. 

the carriage that both the coachmen and the lackey 
saw my hair in a blaze. I took aim with my pistol at 
the stomach of the scoundrel, but happily for him, it 
missed fire, although I had primed it afresh before 
leaving Luneray. The horseman at once turned tail, 
accompanied by his comrade. I then took my other 
pistol, and followed them at the trot, when the one 
called out to the other, ' Fire ! fire ! ' One of them 
had a musket, with which he took aim at me, and as 
it was nearly as light as day, and I was only two or 
three horse-lengths from him, he fired and hit me in 
the left arm, with which I was holding my bridle. I 
moved my arm quickly to ascertain whether it was 
broken, and putting spurs to my horse, gained the 
crupper of the man who had fired at me, who was now 
on my left, and as he bent over his horse's neck I 
discharged my pistol full into his haunch. The two 
horsemen at once disappeared and fled. 

" I now heard the voice of De Bequigny, who, em- 
barrassed by his assailants on foot, was furiously de- 
fending himself; and without losing time in pursuing 
the fugitives, I ran up to him sword in hand, encoun- 
tering on the way my son-in-law, who was coming 
toward me. I asked him whither he was going, and 
he said he was running in search of the horses, which 
his valet had taken away. I told him it was in vain, 
and that he was flying as fast as legs could carry him, 
for I had caught sight of him passing as I mounted my 
horse. But I had no time to reason with him. In a 



D UMONT DE BOSTAQUET. 307 

moment I had joined De Bequigny, who had with him 
only old Montcornet, my wife's uncle; but, before a few 
minutes had passed, we had scattered the canaille, and 
found ourselves masters of the field. De Bequigny in- 
formed me that his horse was wounded, and that he 
could do no more ; and I told him that I was wounded 
in the arm, and that it was necessary, without loss of 
time, to ascertain what had become of the poor women. 
" We found them almost in the same place that we 
had left them, but abandoned by everybody ; the at- 
tendants and the rest of the troop having run away 
along the coast," under the cliffs. My mother, who was 
extremely deaf through age, had not heard the shots, 
and did not know what to make of the disturbance, 
thinking only of the vessel, which had not yet made 
its appearance. My sister, greatly alarmed on my re- 
proaching her with not having quietly followed the 
others, answered that my mother was unable to walk, 
being too much burdened by her dress ; for, fearing the 
coldness of the night, she had clothed herself heavily. 
M. De Bequigny suggested that it might yet be possible 
to rally some of the men of our troop, and thereby res- 
cue the ladies from their peril. Without loss of time, 
I ran along the beach for some distance, supposing that 
some of the men might have hidden under the cliffs 
through fear ; but my labors were useless — I saw only 
some girls, who fled away weeping. Considering that 
my presence would be more useful to our poor women, 
I rejoined them at a gallop. M. De Bequigny, on his 



308 CR OSS AND CR WN. 

part, had returned from the direction of the coast guard 
station, to ascertain whether there were any persons 
lurking there, for we entertained no doubt that it was 
the coast guard that had attacked us ; and the two 
horsemen with whom I had had the affair confirmed 
me in this impression, for I knew that such men were 
appointed to patrol the coasts, and visit the posts, all 
the night through. On coming up to me, Bequigny 
said he feared we were lost ; that the rascals had rallied 
to the number of about forty, and were preparing for 
another attack. 

" We had no balls remaining with which to reload 
our pistols. Loss of blood already made me feel very 
faint. De Bequigny' s horse had been wounded in the 
shoulder by a musket shot, and had now only three legs 
to go on. In this extremity, and not knowing what to 
do to save the women and children, I begged him to 
set my mother on horseback. He tried, but she was 
too heavy, and he set her down again. M. De Mont- 
cornet was the only other man we had with us, but he 
was useless. He was seventy-two, and the little nag 
he rode could not be of much service. De Bequigny's 
valet 'had run away, after having in the skirmish fired 
his musketoon and wounded a coast guardsman in the 
shoulder, of which the man died. The tide, which be- 
gan to rise, deterred me from leading the women and 
children under the cliffs ; besides I was uncertain of 
the route in that direction. My mother and sister con- 
jured me to fly instantly, because, if I was captured, 



D UMONT DE BOSTAQ UET. 309 

my ruin was certain, while the worst that could happen 
to them would be confinement in a convent. 

"In this dire extremity my heart was torn by a 
thousand conflicting emotions, and overwhelmed w r ith 
despair at being unable to rescue those so dear to me 
from the perils which beset them, I knew not what 
course to take. While in this state of irresolution, I 
found myself becoming faint through loss of blood. 
Taking out my handkerchief, I asked my sister to tie it 
around my arm, which was still bleeding ; but wanting 
the nerve to do so, as well as not being sufficiently tall 
to reach me on horseback, I addressed myself to the 
young lady from Caen, who was with them, and whom 
they called La Rosiere. She was tall, and by the light 
of the moon she looked a handsome girl. She had great 
reluctance to approach me in the state in which I was ; 
but at last, after entreating her earnestly, she did me 
the service which I required, and the farther flow of 
blood was stopped. 

" After resisting for some time the entreaties of my 
mother and sister to leave them and fly for my life — 
seeing that my staying longer with them was useless, 
and that De Montcornet and De Bequigny also urged 
me to fly— I felt that at length I must yield to fate, 
and leave them in the hands of Providence. My sister, 
who feared being robbed by the coast guard on their 
return, gave me her twenty louis d'ors to keep, and 
praying heaven to preserve me, they forced me to leave 
them and take to flight, which I did with the greatest 



310 CROSS AND CROWN. 

grief that I had ever experienced in the whole course 
of my life." 

Accompanied by his friend, De Bequigny, De Bosta- 
quet fled along the shore for some distance. The sand 
greatly impeded their progress, but on the way they 
fell in with De Bequigny's valet, and De Bostaquet's 
little daughter Judith. The valet was ordered to take 
up the child in front of him, and they rode on, leaving 
the sea shore by a road leading from the water into the 
country. De Bostaquet rode in front with drawn sword. 
They had scarcely entered the new road when they en- 
countered a party of six horsemen, who halted and 
seemed irresolute whether to attack or not. Seeing De 
Bostaquet's determined attitude, however, they wheeled 
about and galloped off, and the fugitives continued 
their flight as rapidly as De Bequigny's wounded horse 
would allow them. At length they reached Luneray, 
where they went to the house from which they had set 
out on the previous night. De Bostaquet left his little 
daughter here, and the journey was resumed to St. 
Laurent, where a Huguenot surgeon was found, who 
dressed the old soldier's wound, and probed it. This 
operation caused the latter great suffering, but the sur- 
geon failed to find the ball, and concluded that it was 
firmly lodged between the two bones of the forearm. 
De Bostaquet sorely needed rest, and his wound gave 
him very great pain, but he could not think of tarrying 
here; so leaving the place as soon as possible, he 
hastened back to his chateau of La Fontelaye. 



DUMONT DE BOSTAQUET. 311 

Upon reaching his domain, he went to the house of 
one of his tenants in whom he could confide, not daring 
to enter his own house lest the authorities should re- 
ceive intelligence of his presence and seize him. A 
message to his wife brought her and her children to 
his side. She was dismayed at seeing him pale, covered 
with blood, his arm in a sling, and suffering greatly. 
No time was to be lost, however. He gave her hasty 
instructions as to what she was to do in his absence, 
and how she was to convert their property into 
money. Then embracing her and his daughters ten- 
derly, and committing them to the protection of God, 
he mounted his horse again, and accompanied by a 
friend named St. Foy, he rode off through the night 
to the northward, hoping to escape through Picardy, 
Artois, and Flanders, into Holland. One last look at 
the home which he was never to see again, and which 
was henceforth to be a stranger's, and this exile for 
Christ's sake turned his back forever on La Fontelaye. 

De Bostaquet knew the country between his home 
and Flanders thoroughly, and besides, had many friends 
and relatives, both Huguenot and Roman Catholic, in 
Normandy and Picardy. The first night after leaving 
home was passed beneath the roof of a Roman Catholic 
relative, who not only gave them shelter, but sent for 
a surgeon to dress the arm of the sufferer. The wound 
was again probed, but no ball could be found, and the 
pain caused by it was becoming greater every hour. 
The fugitives rode all the next day, and when night 



312 CROSS AND CROWN. 

came halted at GrosmesniL Here they sent for a skilled 
army surgeon, who again probed the wound, but with 
no better result. De Bostaquet here heard a distorted 
account of his fight with the coast guard, and learned 
that the royal officers were making extraordinary efforts 
to capture him. This convinced him that his only 
safety lay in continuing his flight, and in spite of the 
pain and exhaustion caused by his wound, he pressed 
on the next morning, going through Belozane to Neuf- 
chatel, in Normandy. Here he took leave of St. Foy, 
thinking it better to continue his journey alone. After 
parting from his friend he rode on to Foucarmont, which 
he reached before the moon had set. He was obliged to 
stop here, for his arm had become greatly swollen and 
inflamed, and was causing him such pain that he could 
not go farther. A surgeon was sent for, who dressed 
the wound, but said he was afraid of gangrene. By 
the next morning, however, the inflammation had sub- 
sided, and the journey was resumed. Arriving near 
Abbeville, De Bostaquet passed that city on his left, 
and made for the Pont-de-Remy, where he crossed the 
Somme, and entered Picardy. He soon reached Prou- 
ville, where he was warmly received by M. de Mont- 
huc, a friend and a Protestant. His arm had become 
more painful than ever, and the inflammation had 
greatly increased. M. de ' Monthuc sent for his own 
surgeon, who found the wound black, swollen, and 
angry-looking. He probed it again for the ball without 
finding it, and positively ordered the sufferer to remain 



DUMONT DE BOSTA QUET. 313 

perfectly quiet and to partake of a low diet for several 
days. De Bostaquet consented to comply with this in- 
junction, and remained with his friend for two days, 
during which time he was joined by old De Montcornet, 
who was also flying to Holland. On the third day De 
Bostaquet was astonished to find the bullet for which 
the surgeons had so often probed his arm, in one of the 
fingers of his heavy gauntlet where it had lodged at the 
first. This discovery greatly relieved his mind, for he 
had feared that the ball had lodged in the wound and 
was irritating it. 

A few days more were devoted to rest, and then he 
set out again, accompanied by old M. Montcornet. 
Their route lay by Le Quesnel and Doullens, along the 
highroad of Hesdin, through the forest of the Abbey of 
Sercan, and by the Arras road to La Guorgues, where 
they crossed the frontier into Flanders, after which they 
proceeded to Courtrai. They met with many adventures 
and hairbreadth escapes. Some of the streams which 
crossed their route were so well watched that they were 
obliged to avoid the bridges and swim their horses 
across. They were beset by robbers, and had consider- 
able difficulty in ridding themselves of them, and were 
forced to resort to every available expedient to avoid 
the guards and the royal officers. At length they ar- 
rived at Courtrai, but they did not yet think themselves 
safe. That city was still a possession of the King of 
Spain, and the priests were all-powerful there. They 
would not be entirely out of danger until they were 



314 CROSS AND CROWN. 

safe within the dominions of the Prince of Orange. 
They hastened on from Courtrai to Ghent, where, for 
the first time since the commencement of their flight, 
they slept with the consciousness that they were be- 
yond the reach of their persecutors. At Ghent the 
fugitives separated. Montcornet went to Maestricht to 
join his son, who was an officer of the garrison of that 
place, and De Bostaquet passed on to Holland, where 
he was hospitably received by the Prince of Orange, 
who gave him the same rank in the Dutch army that 
he had held in the French service. As a captain of 
dragoons he accompanied William to England, and 
rendered him good service in that country and in Ire- 
land, being especially distinguished at the battle of the 
Boyne. 

As for the ladies who had been left behind on the 
beach, their fate was pitiable indeed. They were at 
once surrounded and taken prisoners by the coast guard, 
and turned over to the civil authorities to be punished 
for their attempt to escape. They were each heavily 
fined, and were sentenced to be confined in convents, 
some for a term of years, and some for life. The 
gentlemen and men-servants who accompanied them 
(the most of whom had escaped) were sentenced to 
the galleys for life, and their property and goods 
confiscated to the use of the king. 

This confiscation put a stop to the efforts of Madame 
de Bostaquet to dispose of her husband's property. 
She and her children were turned out of doors, and she 



D UMONT DE BOSTAQ UE T. 3 1 5 

was at length obliged to separate from some of them. 
At last, after many adventures, she and a son and 
daughter of her husband succeeded in escaping by sea 
and in reaching Holland, where they were cared for by 
friends. De Bostaquet had been cruelly tortured by 
numerous rumors concerning their fate, and the news 
of their safe arrival filled him with joy. After the 
final overthrow of James II., and the establishment of 
William and Mary on the throne, he brought his wife 
and children to England, and there resided with them 
until his death. 

These brave exiles for the cause of Christ gave up 
home, fortune, and kindred, and endured hardships and 
dangers of every kind, suffering gladly for the sake of 
Him whose sincere followers they were, thus affording 
a noble example of courage and patience which was not 
lost upon those who held the faith for which they 
endured these persecutions. 




V. 
CLAUDE BROUSSON. 

Ill HE old city of Nismes, in the south of France, 
was the scene of many tragic and affecting 
incidents connected with the persecutions of 
the French Protestants. There is scarcely a 
stone of its buildings but could tell its tale of horror, 
and bear witness to the patience and firmness with 
which the Cevenol Huguenots endured the sufferings 
which were sent upon them to try their faith. Again 
and again were the- savage dragoons turned against the 
city ; again and again were the Protestants cut down 
with the sword or trampled to death beneath the 
horses' hoofs, or burned, or hanged, or quartered, or 
flayed alive; again and again were they driven by 
thousands to sign the abjurations which in their 
hearts they despised. No device of the priests could 
entirely extirpate them. They continued to* exist in 
secret, attending Mass merely to save themselves from 
violence, and then holding their religious meetings in 
secret, hearing the word of God preached by their 
own pastors, and celebrating the sacraments according 
to the pure custom of the primitive Church. No risk 
could induce them to abandon their secret worship, and 

316 



CLAUDE BROUSSON. 317 

since they were willing to incur this danger, they were 
never without men willing to brave the greater peril 
of becoming their pastors. They met and conducted 
their worship in the vaults and cellars of the city, in 
the forest, in the neighboring mountains, and in caves. 
The meeting was always at night, and was conducted 
with the greatest secresy, every precaution being taken 
to guard against a surprise. 

One day towards the close of the year 1685 it was 
whispered among the members of the church at 
Nismes and in the vicinity of that place, that the 
Pastor Brousson had arrived, and would preach the 
next night at a place where many religious gatherings 
had been held before, and which was believed to be 
secure from the observation of the Catholics. The 
news spread rapidly among the Reformed, and it was 
resolved by them that the meeting should be attended 
by all who could possibly go. It was known that 
attendance upon the meeting would be a hazardous 
undertaking, for the priests and *the military had been 
unusually vigilant of late. The pastor who was to 
minister to the people on this occasion was one of the 
most gifted of all the Cevenol preachers, and the 
Intendant Baville had offered a large reward to anyone 
who would take him alive and deliver him over to the 
authorities for punishment. Nevertheless, despite the 
risk, despite the distance to be traversed in order to 
reach the place of meeting, the people resolved to go. 
Even the women did not shrink from the undertaking. 



318 CROSS AND CROWN. 

In order not to arouse the suspicions of the Catholics, 
a larger number of Protestants than usual attended 
Mass on the morning of the appointed day. At the 
same time they dug up the hymn books they had 
buried for safe keeping, and also the arms which had 
been likewise concealed. 

About eight or ten miles to the southwest of Nismes 
is a fertile district lying at the very foot of the Ceven- 
nes mountains, known as the Yaunage. It is one of 
the most charming valleys of the South of France, 
and from the slope of the mountains one can see the 
whole valley at his feet with the land gradually falling 
away until it meets the blue outline of the Mediterra- 
nean in the far distance. Towards the mountains 
there are sharp, rugged gorges, picturesque defiles, and 
caverns innumerable. At the time of which we write 
there was a very large Protestant population in the 
valley and along the mountain slopes, and there was 
scarcely a ravine or a cavern which had not been used 
by them as a place of worship. 

The place appointed for the present meeting was a 
wild ravine not far from the town of Vergeze, which is 
eight miles from Nismes. It was entered from the 
direction of the town by a narrow pathway winding 
amongst the cliffs, which towered up on each side and 
almost seemed to shut in the sky. The upper end of 
the ravine was sornewhat wider, and the rocks pro- 
jected so far over the sides as almost to form a cavern. 
A small stream trickled from the rocks at the upper 



CLA VDE BR US SOW. 319 

end, and went gurgling down the gorge to its mouth. 
A few stunted evergreens and mountain shrubs grew 
along the sides of the rocks, but they only added to 
the general sternness and ruggedness of the place. 
At the lower end there was but one means of enter- 
ing or leaving the gorge, but at the upper end there 
were several pathways over the cliffs, some of which 
the Reformed had cut with great labor to facilitate 
their escape in case of an attack from the mouth of 
the glen. 

The night appointed for the meeting was bleak and 
dark. A cold, drizzling rain was falling, against which 
no covering seemed proof. The Huguenot worshippers 
hailed the inclemency of the night with joy, however, 
for they knew it would aid them more effectually in 
concealing their movements. Few persons but those in 
the secret would be abroad on such a night, and they 
would incur less risk than usual of meeting any of 
their enemies, or of being seen by them. The dark- 
ness came early, and towards nightfall the Reformed 
began to leave their homes, and take their way to- 
wards the glen we have described. Those who resided 
at Nismes left the city before sunset, in order to avoid 
suspicion. From all parts of the Yaunage there came 
worshippers of all ages and both sexes, moving silently 
and cautiously through the darkness, and often paus- 
ing to listen and to survey the scene, to make sure 
they were not followed — all bending their steps to- 
wards the mouth of the glen. Arriving at the entrance 



320 CROSS AND CROWN. 

to the defile, they were halted, and, upon giving the 
proper password, were suffered to pass on by the senti- 
nels who had been placed there to watch over the 
safety of the meeting, and give warning of the ap- 
proach of danger. Other sentinels were posted along 
the sides of the cliffs and at the summit, from which 
they could note the approach of the dragoons from any 
quarter. 

By ten o'clock several hundred men, women, and 
even children, had assembled at the upper end of the 
gorge. The wind whistled sharply along the sides 
of the rocks, the rain fell incessantly, causing great 
discomfort to the worshippers, many of whom were 
drenched to the skin. Yet all were brave and cheer- 
ful, willing to bear any hardships so they might enjoy 
their worship without interruption from their enemies. 
A few dim lanterns lit up the scene, and served to 
make visible to the worshippers the rock, at the 
extreme upper end of the gorge, occupied by the 
pastor as a pulpit. In front of this rock, a large 
flat stone had been placed to serve as a table, and 
on this were set the vessels containing the bread and 
wine to be used in the celebration of the Lord's Sup- 
per. They were covered with a coarse mantle belong- 
ing to one of the worshippers, to protect them from 
the rain. Close by, clad in the rough dress of a peas- 
ant, and distinguished as regarded his garb only by 
the black skull-cap which he wore under his hat, 
stood the pastor, conversing in low, earnest tones with 



CLAUDE BROUSSON. 321 

a group of the brethren who surrounded him. Close 
by and leaning against the cliff, listening eagerly to 
the pastor, was his assistant, young Fulcrand Key, 
of Nismes, who in a few months more was to pass to 
his Father's House through the bloody gates of mar- 
tyrdom. He seemed to be utterly unconscious of the 
storm, and his gaze never wandered from the face of 
the beloved pastor, whose words he drank in eagerly. 
The pastor was a remarkable man. He was tall, 
finely formed, and though but thirty-eight years old, 
had acquired, in consequence no doubt of his life of 
constant sacrifice and danger, a gravity and dignity 
of demeanor well suited to his holy calling. His face 
was strongly marked, indicating great firmness and 
devotion, as well as courage, and there rested upon it 
an expression of gentleness and sweetness which fully 
accounted for the passionate affection with which his 
followers regarded him. 

At the hour of ten, the time appointed, the worship 
began. Two of the brethren stood up on the rock, 
each holding a lantern in his hand. Between them 
they held up a heavy cloak, and under this Fulcrand 
Key took his place, with the Bible in his hand, the 
sacred book being sheltered by the cloak from the 
falling rain. He read in his clear sweet voice one of 
those tender addresses with which the Saviour on the 
night of His betrayal comforted the Apostles, and pre- 
pared them for the great sacrifice He was about to 

make : 
21 



322 CROSS AND CROWN. 

" Let not your heart be troubled : ye believe in 
God, believe also in me. 

" In my Father's house are many mansions : if it 
were not so I would have told you. I go to prepare a 
place for you." 

Had they not need of such comfort, these brave 
Christian men and women, who had come out into 
the desert through the night and the storm, to hear 
such blessed words, and to renew again in the midst 
of their persecutors their spiritual union with their 
Lord? 

" Peace I leave with you," read the young minister 
in his sweet, soothing tones, which brought tears to 
the eyes of all who heard him. " My peace I give unto 
you : not as the world giveth give I unto you. Let 
not your heart be troubled, neither let it be afraid." 

The rain fell with a dreary, monotonous plash, the 
little stream swollen with the fall of water, dashed 
hoarsely down the gorge, and the storm howled wildly 
among the rocks. But the worshippers heard it not. 
Their ears were deaf to all sounds but the tones of the 
reader, and their souls were drawing from the tender 
words of Christ the comforts some of them were so 
soon to need. 

When the reading of the Bible was ended a hymn 
w r as sung, one of those glorious songs of Clement 
Marrot, and the volume of praise soared up high 
above the storm, and floating over the cliffs in a full 
grand chorus, caused the sentinels to tremble lest it 



CLAUDE BROUSSON. 323 

should draw down upon them the dreaded dragoons 
who might be thus apprised of their presence in the 
glen. But the worshippers cared not for this. They 
had forgotten the danger in the fervor of their religious 
joy, and they sang as only people can sing whose 
mouths have long been closed by tyranny. A prayer 
followed the hymn, — a brief and earnest appeal to the 
Throne of Grace for protection and pardon. Then the 
pastor advanced to the front of the pulpit rock, and 
waving back the men who would have sheltered him 
with the cloak, bared his head to the storm, and for a 
moment gazed in silence on the throng before him. 

In a clear, firm voice, he read his text — those memo- 
rable words of Jesus, so applicable to these, his later 
followers : " He that endureth to the end shall be 
saved." (Matt. x. 22.) Salvation, he told them, was 
promised alone to those who fight without ceasing the 
fight of faith. He told them of the Apostles, the 
martyrs, the confessors of the primitive Church, how 
they braved persecution and suffering, and death, re- 
sisting all temptations to abandon their Lord, and 
counting themselves blessed above their fellows when 
chosen to die for His name. Then he spoke of the 
courage of the martyrs of their own day — many of 
whom were their kindred and friends — how they went 
gladly to the stake, enduring to the end, and passing 
from earthly suffering to everlasting joy in Heaven. 
Then he traced the miseries of the cowardly apostates, 
who fell off from the faith in the hour of trial, their 



324 CROSS AND CROWN. 

anguish and remorse on earth, and their eternal damna- 
tion hereafter. He exhorted his hearers to stand firm, 
and not to be driven from their duty by any threat or 
fear of persecution. They might suffer on earth, but 
they would rejoice forever more in Heaven. His hear- 
ers were profoundly affected. Strong men wept, and 
sobs and groans of penitence, and vows of future 
fidelity were heard on all sides. 

The rain had now almost ceased to fall, and the 
pastor, upon the conclusion of his sermon, removed the 
covering from the bread and wine, and solemnly con- 
secrated them for the communion. Then the whole 
congregation prostrated themselves in prayer, beseech- 
ing God to pardon them for their past sins, and to 
strengthen them to be faithful to His name in the 
future, even though they should be called on to suffer 
and to die for it. 

The prayer was ended, and there was a brief pause, 
broken only by the sobs of the kneeling worshippers. 
Suddenly there was a sound of heavy footseps towards 
the mouth of the glen, followed by a confused noise, 
and from the sides of the cliff the loud voices of the 
sentinels came ringing down : " The dragoons ! the 
dragoons ! Save yourselves without delay." 

In an instant the lights were extinguished, and the 
worshippers were upon their- feet. They stood irreso- 
lute for a moment, but a heavy discharge of musketry 
was poured into them from the mouth of the ravine, 
and by the flash of the guns they could see the dreaded 



CLAUDE BROUSSON. 325 

dragoons struggling with and cutting down the devoted 
sentinels who sought to stay their passage. The next 
instant the worshippers were clambering up the hidden 
paths along the sides of the cliff, each one seeking to 
secure his own escape. The greater part were fortunate 
enough to gain the summit, from which they passed 
easily to the open country, but a large number fell into 
the hands of the dragoons. About fifteen or twenty were 
killed in the melee, and the soldiers, finding it impossible 
to secure any more, conducted their prisoners to Nismes, 
to be punished for the heinous crime of worshipping 
their Maker. The two pastors were among those who 
escaped. At the very first sign of danger, they had 
been seized by two of the brethren, who had charged 
themselves with that duty, and hurried up the cliffs to 
the open country, from which they succeeded in gain- 
ing a place of refuge in the mountains. There they 
waited a few days, until the excitement attending the 
affair had subsided, and then resumed their labors 
afresh. 

The elder of the two pastors, the one whose elo- 
quence had so moved the congregation in the glen, was 
Claude Brousson. He was born at Nismes in 1647, 
and was educated as an advocate. Upon entering 
upon the practice of his profession he established 
himself at Toulouse. He had been trained in the 
Reformed religion, and was a devoted member of the 
Huguenot Church. As long as he dared do so, he 
boldly advocated the rights of the Huguenots in the 



326 CROSS AND GEO WW. 

courts, and when this could no longer be done openly, 
he became the leader of a secret committee which met 
at his house to consult as to the course to be pursued 
by the Reformed. This becoming known to the au- 
thorities, his arrest was ordered, and he was obliged 
to escape for his life. The inhabitants of Nismes were 
forbidden under pain of death to receive him, and he 
was obliged to encounter the greatest hardships in his 
efforts to reach the Cevennes, where he was sure of 
meeting with friends. He was successful, however, 
and from the Cevennes passed into Switzerland, where 
he fixed his residence at Lausanne, being joined there 
by his wife and child. He resumed the practice of his 
profession, and his abilities and personal character soon 
brought him into such prominence that he was sent 
by the Protestant cantons of Switzerland on a mission 
to the Prince of Orange, respecting a league of evan- 
gelical union for the safety of the Reformed Faith in 
every country where it was professed; a project which 
failed at the time, but was afterwards realized in the 
league of Augsburg. He returned home sadly disap- 
pointed with the result of his journey. 

This mission had the effect of calling Brousson's 
attention more particularly to the condition of his 
Huguenot brethren in Southern France. In the Cev- 
ennes' region the case was especially sad. The few 
pastors who remained in that region were living in 
caves and in the forests, hunted, driven from place to 
place, and exposed to the greatest dangers. X ne 



CLAUDE BROUSSON. 327 

people were almost entirely without spiritual care, 
and they were constantly beset by hordes of priests 
and monks who were seeking by every species of 
argument and intimidation to make them desert their 
religion. More pastors were needed in the Cevennes, 
and Brousson felt that it was his duty to enter the 
field thus opened to him. He was devoted to his wife 
and his child, and the former earnestly opposed his 
design. To leave them caused him the greatest strug- 
gle he had ever known, yet he could not take them 
with him ; he must go alone. He could not hesitate. 
His duty was plain. God called him, and he must 
obey. Commending his dear ones to the protection of 
his Master, he tore himself away, and set out on his 
journey. 

Upon reaching the Cevennes, he was ordained a min- 
ister by Vivens and Gabriel, two fugitive pastors, and 
at once entered upon his life-work. For nearly a year 
he lived in a cavern amongst the rocks, in the midst 
of the most frightful precipices. His life was one of 
constant toil and hardship, but he did not shrink from 
his work. He travelled back and forth throughout 
the entire province of Languedoc, visiting every place 
in which there was a congregation, preaching regu- 
larly three times a week and often every day. His 
life was in constant peril, but he did not regard this. 
He preached, baptized, celebrated the rite of marriage, 
visited the sick, buried the dead, administered the 
Load's Supper, and performed all the duties of an 



328 CROSS AND CROWN. 

active ministry, oftentimes within hearing of the 
drums of the troops sent out to capture him. His 
eloquence was all-powerful, and it did much to keep 
the people true to their religion. 

Baville, the Intendant of Languedoc, was greatly 
alarmed by the effect of the pastor's eloquence. He 
falsely accused him of endeavoring to excite an insur- 
rection in the province, and offered a reward of five 
hundred louis d'ors for his head. Brousson wrote to 
him, indignantly denying the charge, and saying, " My 
design is not to cause trouble. I do harm to no one. 
I hold the assembly of my congregations without arms; 
I travel without arms ; and, like a lamb, unprotected." 
He thus labored among the Cevenols for a number of 
years. 

At length one of his dearest friends, Yivens, the 
pastor from whose hands he had received ordination, 
was cruelly put to death by order of Baville. The 
Intendant caused Brousson to be warned that he would 
be the next victim; but the pastor without heeding 
the threat, went on with his work. When sorely 
pressed, he would retire to his cavern, and there re- 
main until the danger had passed by. It is wonder- 
ful how he escaped, and was able to continue his 
labors for so long a time; but he not only passed 
unharmed through the dangers which surrounded him, 
but found time and opportunity to compose in his 
cavern many valuable religious treatises adapted to 
the wants of his people. Here also he wrote his most 



CLAUDE B ROUS SON. 329 

celebrated work, " The Mystic Manna of the Desert," 
which was subsequently published in Holland. Some- 
times his enemies watched him so closely that he could 
not reach the places he had promised to visit for the 
purpose of preaching. He accomplished his object 
partially, however, by dictating short and instructive 
sentences, which were cut in wood or stone, and con- 
veyed to these places, and passed from hand to hand 
and carefully concealed. At length, however, the per- 
secution became so fierce and unrelenting that he was 
obliged to fly from Languedoc. He returned to Swit- 
zerland, where he had once more the happiness of 
being with his wife and child. This was in 1696. 

He was greatly in need of rest, and he remained in 
Switzerland for nearly a year, endeavoring to build up 
his health, which had been greatly enfeebled by his 
hard life. Whilst there reports reached him of the 
sufferings of his people in Languedoc, who were being 
persecuted by Baville with unusual severity. He felt 
that he must go back, and he once more bade adieu to 
his family, and late in 1697 set out on his return to 
France. He was detained in Dauphiny during the 
winter by the snow. While there he preached con- 
stantly to the Vaudois of that region, who had been 
for many months without a pastor. In the spring of 
1698 he passed into Yivarais, going from village to vil- 
lage and preaching to large crowds. Thence he made 
his way into the Cevennes, and on the 28th of April, 
reached the vicinity of Nismes. 



330 CROSS AND CROWN. 

Baville was promptly informed of his arrival, and 
increased the reward offered for his head. His pres- 
ence was discovered in Nismes, and spies were at once 
set upon his track. He had great difficulty in getting 
beyond the walls, but having accomplished this, set 
out for his refuge in the mountains. He was so hotly 
pursued that he was obliged to take shelter in the 
house of a friend, who concealed him in an old well 
on the place. At the side of this well, and near the 
bottom, there was a niche just large enough to afford 
a hiding place for a man. Brousson was directed to 
conceal himself in this niche. He had scarcely done 
so when the soldiers arrived at the house. One of 
them immediately descended into the well to search 
for Brousson; but, coming suddenly from the full 
light of the sun into the gloom of the pit, he did 
not perceive the niche, and was drawn up again by 
his companions without having discovered the fugitive. 

Baville, knowing that Brousson's preaching was one 
of the principal reasons of the firmness with which 
the Huguenots maintained their faith, now resolved to 
secure him at any cost. He beset his path with spies, 
and with pretended friends, who only waited an oppor- 
tunity to betray him. The pastor, perceiving his dan- 
ger, resolved to go into Poitou for a season, and accord- 
ingly set out thither. He was provided with letters 
of recommendation to the principal persons of the Re- 
formed faith along his route. One of these was to a 
young Hugnenot lady living near Pau. By an unfor- 



CLAUDE BROUSSON. 331 

tunate mistake he delivered the letter to a lady of the 
same name, who had become an apostate, and thus 
betrayed himself. She at once took the letter to the 
consul, and Brousson being warned of his danger fled 
from the place. He was pursued, and captured at Ole- 
ron. Upon being asked his name, he frankly avowed 
it, and joyfully held out his hands to receive the 
chains with which they bound him. He was con- 
ducted back to Pau, and imprisoned in the castle, 
which, during the reign of the heroic Queen of Na- 
varre, the mother of Henry IV., had been the strong- 
hold of the Reformation, but which was now a Romish 
prison. The Governor of the castle, De Pinon, treated 
Brousson with great kindness during his stay there. 

Baville upon being informed of the arrest of the 
pastor, ordered him to be removed to Montpelier, 
where he was residing as Governor of Languedoc. 
De Pinon displayed great emotion in parting with 
him, and asked the escort which was to convey him 
to Montpelier to show him every possible indulgence. 
This they did. They put no chains on him, and 
guarded him but negligently, he having pledged his 
word that he would not attempt to escape. During 
the journey he had several opportunities of regaining 
his freedom ; but he had given his word to his guards, 
and not even to save his life would he break his 
pledge. ' 

Upon reaching Montpelier, he was imprisoned in the 
citadel, and on the 4th of November was brought to 



332 CROSS AND CROWN. 

trial before a court presided over by Baville himself. 
The hall was crowded with priests and monks, officers 
and lawyers, all curious to see the famous pastor of 
the desert of whom they had heard so much. They 
expected that he would make an eloquent defence, but 
they were disappointed. He refused to plead in his 
own behalf, believing such a course unworthy of the 
cause for which he knew he was to suffer. He an- 
swered the questions put to him frankly and concisely, 
and without the least manifestation of fear or embar- 
rassment. He said he had done no harm to man ; 
that his religion was that of the Keformed Church; 
he feared God, and as a minister of His Word had 
returned to France to console his unhappy brethren 
in the faith. Baville was greatly disconcerted by his 
language and manner, and not knowing what to say, 
asked him : 

" What were the motives of your conduct in the 
Cevennes?" 

"To preach the Gospel after the example of the 
Apostles," replied the pastor, calmly. 

The trial was a mere form ; the prisoner was accused 
of rebellion against the State, but he indignantly denied 
this, and there was not the slighest shadow of evidence 
against him on this point His crime was preaching 
the pure Word of God, and for this he must die. He 
had dared to oppose Home, and there was no mercy for 
him. He was sentenced to be tortured upon the rack, 
then to be broken upon the wheel, and then to be 



CLA UDE BROUSSON. 333 

hanged upon the gibbet. Baville's conscience seems 
to have smitten him when this infamous sentence was 
laid before him for his approval, for he altered it mate- 
rially, and ordered that the victim should be made to 
see the rack only, and then should be hanged, after 
which his lifeless body should be broken on the wheel. 
Brousson heard the sentence in silence, and then bow- 
ing his head prayed to God that He would have mercy 
on his judges and forgive them. 

The pastor passed the greater part of the night in 
prayer, after which he fell into a calm sleep. The 
next day, November 5th, 1698, he was led between 
two soldiers to the place of execution. According to 
the terms of his sentence, he was taken to look upon 
the rack. He was calm and serene, and he gazed upon 
the dreadful instrument a moment, and then raised his 
eyes to Heaven in silent prayer. He was accompanied 
by some of the judges who had sentenced him, and 
they were pale and trembling. From the rack he was 
led to the scaffold. Ascending it, he endeavored to 
speak to the people, but his voice was silenced in the 
roll of drums. He then knelt down, and clasping his 
hands, prayed fervently, after which he rose, calm and 
smiling, and delivered himself to the executioner, who 
was so much agitated that he could scarcely perform 
his terrible work. A few moments more, and it was 
all over. Then the lifeless body of the pastor was 
placed upon the wheel, and broken. 

Said the executioner a few days later: "I have 



334 CROSS AND CROWN. 

executed above two hundred condemned persons ; but 
none ever made me tremble as did Monsieur de Brous- 
son." 

Said one of his judges, who stood by his side to see 
the sentence properly carried out : 

"I could have fled away rather than have put to 
death such an honest man. I could, if I dared, speak 
much about him — certainly he died like a saint." 




VI. 
JEAN MARTEILHE. 

THE HUGUENOT GALLEY SLAVE. 

NE of the most celebrated of the members of the 



.deformed religion who suffered the punishment 
of the galleys was Jean Marteilhe, whose admir- 
able memoirs afford us the most perfect account 
we possess of the cruelties endured by the Huguenot 
martyrs condemned to the living death of the galleys. 

Jean Marteilhe was born at Bergerac, a small town 
in the province of Perigord, in 1684. His parents were 
trades-people, and had been from their infancy trained 
in the Reformed faith, in which they reared their chil- 
dren. His childhood was passed in obscurity, and 
nothing occurred to him to break the monotony of his 
life until the year 1699, when he was fifteen years of 
age. 

The peace of Ryswick having given to Louis XIV. 
an opportunity of turning his dragoons against his own 
subjects, he yielded to the entreaties of the Jesuits, and 
gave the priests leave to begin again, with the assist- 
ance of the troops their savage warfare against the Hu- 
guenots. The town of Bergerac lay within the domains 

of the Duke de la Force, a powerful noble, and a pupil 

335 



336 CR OSS AND CRO WN. 

of the Jesuits. In 1699, the duke obtained from the 
king leave to repair to his estates in Perigord " in order 
to convert the Huguenots." Upon reaching his castle 
of La Force, about a league from Bergerac, accompanied 
by four Jesuit priests and a body of guards, he began 
his labors by seizing all the members of the Reformed 
faith he could lay his hands on, and subjecting them to 
the most terrible tortures, without any form of trial, in 
order to make them recant. Some of these poor crea- 
tures died under the tortures inflicted upon them, and 
others signed their abjurations in order to escape a like 
fate. The duke was warmly applauded for his " pious 
work " by the priests and monks of the neighborhood, 
but the people hated him bitterly. He then went to 
Versailles to give an account to the king of his efforts. 
Louis was so well pleased with his cruelties that he 
gave him leave to attempt the conversion of the whole 
province of Perigord. In 1700, he came back and es- 
tablished his residence at Bergerac, accompanied by the 
four Jesuits who had urged him on in his former bru- 
tality, and a regiment of dragoons. The soldiers were 
at once turned loose upon the Huguenots of the pro- 
vince, with full licence to commit any outrages upon 
them, and they promptly availed themselves of this 
permission. 

Twenty-two of these dragoons were quartered in the 
house of the Marteilhe family. Not satisfied with this, 
the duke caused the father to be arrested and imprisoned 
at Perigueux. Two of the younger children were seized 



JEAN MARTEILHE. 337 

and sent to a convent, and the mother, left alone in the 
midst of the wretches, was forced to sign her abjuration. 
Jean Marteilhe managed to escape from the house be- 
fore the dragoons entered it. He was then but sixteen 
years of age, but young as he was, he was sufficiently 
well instructed in the doctrines of his faith to be re- 
solved to adhere to them. He knew that to return to 
his home would be but to fall into the hands of the 
dragoons, and he also knew that he could not remain in 
Bergerac without being discovered by the soldiers. 
There was but one thing to do — to escape from the 
town. That, however, was not easy, for every road 
leading from the place was strongly guarded, the 
duke and the Jesuits being resolved that none of the 
Huguenots should slip through their fingers. Still, 
Marteilhe resolved to make the attempt, and that night 
in company with a lad of the town, about his own age, 
and like himself, a Huguenot, he succeeded in leaving 
Bergerac. They walked all night through the woods, 
and in the morning found themselves at Mussidan, a 
small town about four leagues from their home. They 
could not remain here, for they were within reach of 
their enemies at Bergerac, and might be seized at any 
time. The question was whither would they go? 
They had heard from their friends that the Huguenots 
were safe, and were sure of finding friends in Holland, 
and that seemed to them the only asylum open to them. 
They had a very vague idea of the country, and of the 

route to be traversed in order to reach it ; but to Hol- 

22 ' * 



338 CROSS AND CROWN. 

land they determined to go. Between them and the 
Dutch frontier lay almost the whole of France, a dis- 
tance of more than five hundred miles, for Bergerac is 
only about seventy miles from Bordeaux. This distance 
they would be forced to traverse on foot, and their 
purses contained only ten pistoles, a sum equal to about 
one hundred francs. " We resolved," says Marteilhe, 
" whatever the perils might be, to continue our journey 
as . far as Holland, resigning ourselves wholly to the 
will of God in the prospect of all those dangers which 
presented themselves to our imagination ; and as we 
implored the Divine protection, we made a firm resolu- 
tion* not to imitate Lot's wife in looking back, and that, 
whatever might be the result of our present enterprise, 
we would remain firm and constant in confessing the 
true Reformed religion, even at the risk of the punish- 
ment of the galleys, or of death." From Mussidan they 
took the road to Paris, beginning their journey late in 
October. They met with no adventure, and reached 
Paris on the 10 th of November. 

They had acquaintances of their own faith in the 
city, and to them they betook themselves for advice 
and assistance. They asked to be told the easiest and 
least dangerous route to the Flemish frontier, and one 
of their friends wrote down for them a little itinerary 
as far as Mezieres, which town then stood on the bor- 
ders of the Spanish Netherlands, and on the edge of the 
great forest of Ardennes. This friend warned them to 
be cautious upon approaching Mezieres, that their only 



JEAN MARTEILHE. 339 

danger would be in entering it, as all strangers were 
halted and examined at the gates. No one was stopped 
or questioned in going out, however. After leaving 
Mezieres, they were to pass through the forest of Ar- 
dennes to Charleroi, where there was a Dutch garrison 
and commander who would protect them, that place 
being outside of the French territory. 

They set out from Paris for the frontier, and at last 
reached Mezieres, which they succeeded in entering 
without being stopped or questioned. They proceeded 
to an inn, and took lodgings in it. The landlord was 
absent at the time, and his wife received them. When 
the landlord returned, he demanded of the youths their 
tickets of permission to stop in the town, which all 
strangers were obliged to procure from the Governor. 
As they could not produce these vouchers, he told them 
they must go with him to the Governor. In order to 
gain time, they consented to do this, but asked him to 
delay the matter until the next morning, to which he 
agreed. Early the next day they succeeded in making 
their escape from the city, and in reaching Charleville, 
a small town in the vicinity. From Charleville, they 
entered the forest of Ardennes, and becoming bewildered 
by the numerous roads which intersected each other at 
its verge, they asked a peasant to direct them to Char- 
leroi. This man advised them to avoid the forest en- 
tirely, as it was very dangerous to those unacquainted 
with it, and to take another route, which he pointed 
out to them. They followed his advice, and succeeded 



340 CROSS AND CROWN. 

in reaching a town called Couve, within the territory 
of the Prince of Liege. This place was beyond the 
French territory, and was held by a Dutch garrison and 
commander, to whom the fugitives might have applied 
for protection had they known they were no longer on 
French soil. They were discovered by a gamekeeper 
of the Prince of Liege, who determined to betray them, 
to the French authorities if they should re-enter France, 
and pass by Mariembourg on their way to Charleroi. 
It was their intention to avoid Mariembourg, and to 
take another road, but the presence of a military officer 
travelling along the road they designed taking, caused 
them to abandon their first intention, and go to Mari- 
embourg. Here they were betrayed by the gamekeeper, 
who hoped to be rewarded for his villany by the French. 
They were arrested and conveyed before the Governor 
6f the place. They acknowledged that they were Hu- 
guenots, but endeavored to conceal the fact that they 
were trying to escape from the kingdom. They had 
been found on the frontiers, however, without passports, 
and the authorities were convinced that they were en- 
deavoring to leave the kingdom. Their case was reported 
to the king, who ordered the Parliament or Court of Tour- 
nay, within whose jurisdiction they had been captured, to 
sentence them to the galleys for life. Sentence was, ac- 
cordingly passed upon them, and they were conveyed to 
the prison of Tournay. 

They were treated very cruelly during the journey 
to Tournay, and upon reaching that place, their lot was 



JEAN MARTEILHE. 341 

no better. The ,cure of the parish visited them about 
once a fortnight for the purpose of endeavoring to con- 
vert them to Romanism, but he seems to have depended 
more upon starving them than upon arguing with them. 
Meanwhile, they were confined in a dark, loathsome 
dungeon, on the floor of which was a little damp straw 
filled with vermin, which served as their bed. Their 
food consisted of but a pound and a half of bread and a 
jug of water per day, and they soon became so thin and 
weak that they were obliged to stay near the door of 
their cell, through a hole in which their food was 
thrown to them as if they had been dogs. If they had 
staj^ed farther from the door, says Marteilhe, they 
Would not have been able to crawl, to it to receive their 
food, because of their great weakness. They sold to 
the jailor for a little bread, their coats, waistcoats, and 
all their shirts save the one they had on. That one 
soon fell to rags, and left them almost naked. In this 
miserable state, they were visited by the parish priest, 
who mocked them, and asked them tauntingly if they 
were not weary of suffering these torments. When 
they told him in reply that they were resolved to be 
faithful to their religion to the end of their lives, he 
told them brutally that they deserved no pity, that 
their misery was deserved, and would continue until 
they should fully renounce the errors of Calvin. 

They obtained some relief at length. Two of their 
fellow-townsmen from Bergerac, arrested in the attempt 
to escape, were sent to the same prison. These were 



342 CROSS AND CROWN. 

men of consequence, and being provided with money, 
purchased for the famishing youths a supply of meat 
and wine which greatly revived them. 

The town of Tournay lies on both sides of the river 
Scheldt. The portion lying on the south side of the 
stream was at this time within the diocese of the Bishop 
of Cambrai. That on the north -side is within the dio- 
cese of Tournay. The prisoners at this time were con- 
fined on the south side of the river. The Bishop of 
Tournay, having heard that they were not properly 
looked after by the parish priest, sent one of his chap- 
lains to visit them. " This chaplain/' says Marteilhe, 
u was a good old priest, who had more honesty than the- 
ology — at least so it. seemed to us, for after having told 
us that he was sent by the bishop, he added, s it was 
in order to convert you to the Christian religion/ We 
replied that we were Christians, both by baptism, and 
by our faith in the Gospel of Jesus Christ. ' What/ 
said he, 'You are Christians? And what are your 
names?' taking his tablets in which our names were 
written out of his pocket, thinking he had made some 
mistake. We told him our Christian names and sur- 
names. 6 It is you indeed,' said he, ( to whom I am sent, 
but you are not what I thought, for you say you are 
Christians, and his lordship sent me to convert you to 
Christianity. Repeat to me, if you please, the articles 
of your faith.' 6 Very willingly, sir,' said I, and at the 
same time I repeated the Apostles' Creed. '■ What ! * 
cried he, ' you believe that ? ' and having replied in the 



JEAN MARTEILHE. 343 

affirmative, ' And I too,' said he; 'his lordship the 
bishop has been trying to make an April fool of me ' — 
for that day was in fact the 1st of April, 1701. He 
took leave of us very quickly, much put out that his 
bishop should have played such a trick on a man of his 
age and character. My readers may judge whether 
this good ecclesiastic had studied and examined the dif- 
ferent sects of Christianity." 

The bishop did not send the old man a second time, 
but the next day the prisoners received a visit from the 
Grand Yicar of the diocese of Tournay, who after this, 
visited them constantly. He was a man of learning 
and zeal, and labored diligently to induce them to enter 
the Roman Church. He was also very kind to them 
in relieving their wants with money and clothing. The 
parish priest happening to meet him in the cell, thus 
engaged, became very angry and ordered him out of his 
parish. Upon this, the Bishop of Tournay had the boys 
removed to the prison of the Beffroi, which lay within 
his diocese. Here they were visited by many Protest- 
ants, who came to exhort them to persevere. The 
Grand Yicar continued his kindness to them, and at 
length made them the following proposition. " We 
will dispense with our belief," said he, " in the greater 
part of those doctrines which seem to you to be errors — 
such as the invocation of saints and of the Virgin, re- 
spect for images, belief in a purgatory, faith in indul- 
gences and pilgrimages — if you will only submit to be- 
lieve faithfully in transubstantiation and the sacrifice 



344 CROSS AND CROWN. 

of the Mass, and will abjure the errors of Calvin." The 
youths at once refused to entertain his proposal for a 
moment, and the vicar, in despair of converting them, 
gradually discontinued his visits. 

From Tournay they were taken in chains to Lille to 
join the chain of galley slaves assembling there. They 
were thrown into the terrible prison of Saint Pierre, in 
the midst of a gang of convicts consisting of the most 
desperate characters in France. There they were 
searched, and their money and religious books taken 
from them. They only escaped maltreatment at the 
hands of their fellow prisoners, by paying the sum of 
two crowns to the wretches to leave them in peace. 

It was the custom of the jailors to enter the prison 
every evening, accompanied by a guard, to make sure 
that the prisoners were not endeavoring to escape. 
Upon one occasion Marteilhe asked a turnkey to leave 
him a small piece, of candle. The man refused, and as 
he went out overheard the prisoner say he was sorry he 
had not snatched it from his hand. He reported this 
to the jailor. " The next morning," says Marteilhe, 
" as I was sleeping on my bit of straw, I was suddenly- 
aroused by several blows from the flat side of a sword. 
I started up, and saw the jailor, sword in hand, the 
four turnkeys, and all the soldiers of the guard, armed 
to the teeth. I asked them why they ill-treated me 
thus. The jailor only replied by giving me twenty 
more blows with the sword, and the turnkey with the 
candle-end gave me such a terrible box on the ear that 



JEAN MARTEILHE. 345 

he knocked me down. Having got up again, the jailor 
told me to follow him, and perceiving that it was to do 
me more injury, I refused to obey him until I knew by 
whose orders he treated me thus ; for that if I had de- 
served it, the grand provost alone could have me pun- 
ished. Then they gave me so many blows that I fell 
down a second time. The four turnkeys now took me 
up, two by the legs and two by the arms, and carried 
me out of the dungeon, dragging me like a dead dog 
down the steps of the tower into the courtyard, where 
they opened the door of another staircase which led 
underground. Then they pushed me down these steps, 
of which there must have been twenty-five or thirty, at 
the bottom they opened a cell with an iron gate, called 
6 the dungeon of the sorceress.' They forced me in here, 
shut the door on me, and went away. I could see no 
more in this horrible dungeon than if I had my eyes 
shut. I groped a few steps to find a little straw, and 
then sunk down to my knees in water as cold as ice. 
I turned back, and leaned against the door, where the 
ground was higher and less damp. By groping about I 
found a little straw upon which I sat, but I had not 
been there two minutes, when I felt the water coming 
through the straw. I then firmly believed that they 
had buried me alive, and that this dungeon would be 
my tomb if I remained there twenty-four hours. Half 
an hour after, the turnkey brought me some bread and 
water. I rejected his pitcher and his bread, saying : 
6 Go tell your butcher of a master that I will neither 
eat nor drink till I have spoken to the grand provost/ " 



346 CROSS AND CROWN. 

This firm language terrified the jailor, who knew he 
would have to answer to the grand provost if his 
prisoner should die, and he had him brought to his 
own apartments, where he washed the blood from him, 
dressed his bruises, and gave him a good breakfast and 
a glass of wine. Then he put him in a clean, dry cell. 
Soon after this Marteilhe was put back in the tower 
with the other galley slaves. His friends in Bergerac, 
who had been informed of his fate, now managed to 
interest the grand provost of Flanders in his behalf. 
This personage showed considerable kindness to him 
and to Daniel le Gras, his companion. They were, by 
his order, placed in a clean and airy room, and pro- 
vided with good beds. Marteilhe was put in charge of 
the alms donated by the charitable citizens for the 
prisoners, and it was his duty to distribute them 
according to the necessities of the inmates of the 
prison. 

They remained in these pleasant quarters for six 
weeks, after which they were sent to Dunkirk, to be 
placed in the galleys. Here Marteilhe was separated 
from his companion, and assigned to the galley L'Heu- 
reuse, the flag ship of the squadron of six galleys lying 
in that port, and which was commanded by Captain 
de la Pailleterie. 

The French galleys were long, low vessels, with one 
deck, propelled by oars and sails. They had two 
masts with lateen sails. The largest vessels of this 
class were about 166 feet long by 32 feet broad, with 



JEAN MARTE1LHE. 347 

26 pairs of oars. They were armed with cannon, 
which were usually placed in the bow and stern, with a 
few along the sides, and were provided with soldiers and 
sailors, besides the convicts appointed to work the oars. 
They were capable of carrying 1000 men and provi- 
sions and ammunition for two months. There was a 
cabin astern for the captain, and some slight accommo- 
dations in the forward part for the under officers, but 
the galley slaves were chained night and day to their 
benches, six to each oar. They slept on the benches, 
or under them, as they pleased. Each convict was 
naked to the waist, in order that he might be the more 
exposed to the lash of the Cornite, or Sous-Comite, 
whose business it was to flog them with a large whip 
to make them row more vigorously. These under 
officers were usually cruel and brutal men. Their 
station was on a bridge or plank which ran the length 
of the vessel over the heads of the rowers, and from 
which they could easily reach them with their whips. 
The prisoners suffered greatly from these blows, but 
much more from exposure to the weather in their half- 
naked condition. The punishment of the galleys was 
the worst and most infamous known to the French law, 
and until the religious persecutions, had been inflicted 
only upon felons ; so that it was a refinement of 
cruelty on the part of the Jesuits to induce the king to 
condemn the pious Huguenots to this living death. 

Almost upon his arrival at Dunkirk, Marteilhe had 
a narrow escape from the punishment of the bastinado. 



348 CROSS AND CROWN. 

A convict on the bench to which he was chained, 
having been refused money by him, informed the Sous- 
Gomite that Marteilhe had uttered execrable blas- 
phemies against the Virgin Mary and all the saints of 
Paradise. The Sous-Comite at once ordered the ac- 
cused to prepare to receive the bastinado, but fortuately 
for him the Comite interfered, and upon investigation 
the charge discovered Marteilhe's innocence. He there- 
upon returned Marteilhe to his bench, and flogged his 
accuser. Though Marteilhe escaped the bastinado, 
many of his Huguenot brethren received it during 
their confinement in the galleys, and it may not be 
amiss to quote here his description of it. " The 
unfortunate victim," says he, " is stripped naked from 
his waist upwards ; then they make him lie upon his 
face, his legs hanging over his bench, and his arms 
over the bench opposite. Two convicts hold his legs, 
and two others his arms, his back is bare and exposed, 
and the Comite, who is behind him, every now and 
then strikes a muscular Turk, who is also stripped, to 
urge him to scourge the back of the poor victim with 
all his strength, which he does with a coarse, thick 
rope. As the Turk knows there will be no mercy 
for him if he spares, in the least, the poor wretch who 
is to be so cruelly punished, he applies his blows with 
his whole force, so that each cut raises a bruise an inch 
in height. Those who have to suffer this punishment 
can rarely endure more than ten or twelve blows with- 
out losing the power of speech and motion. This does 



JEAN MARTEILHE. 349 

not hinder them from continuing to strike the poor 
body, which neither moves nor utters a cry till the 
number of blows ordered . by the major are accom- 
plished. Twenty or thirty blows are only for slight 
offences ; I have seen fifty, eighty, and even a hundred 
given; in such cases the victims scarcely ever recover. 
After the poor patient has received the appointed 
number, the barber or surgeon of the galley comes to 
rub his lacerated back with strong vinegar and salt, 
to make the miserable body regain its sensibility, and 
to prevent gangrene from coming on." * 

* One of the cruellest cases of this kind was that of M. Sabatier, 
sentenced to the galleys of Marseilles for his religion. He was de- 
tected in the act of distributing money to his* Huguenot brethren in 
the galleys, and though an old man, was ordered to be bastinadoed 
until he confessed from whom he had received the money, or until 
he died. He refused to betray the friend who had placed the money 
in his hands, and was beaten until he was speechless and senseless. 
The surgeon of his galley then declared that he would die if he were 
struck again. With the hope of reviving him and forcing him to con- 
fess his secret, they rubbed his back with vinegar and salt. The 
pain of this application was so great that he regained his conscious- 
ness, but he was still so weak that it was evident that he would die 
under the first blow. They then conveyed him to the hospital, intend- 
ing to beat him again when he had recovered his strength. He lay 
for a long time at the point of death, and when he recovered was such 
a wreck that his tormentors dared not touch him lest they should 
kill him at once. He lived but a few years longer, and was so feeble 
that he could not speak above a whisper, and his mind was so affected 
that he could not carry on the simplest conversation. Previous to 
his torture he had been noted for his meek and gentle behaviour and 
the patience with which he endured his servitude. The chief instiga- 
tors and promoters of the cruelties inflicted upon him were the Jesuit 
missionaries of Marseilles. 



350 CROSS AND CROWN. 

About a fortnight after his arrival at Dunkirk, 
Marteilhe was assigned to the galley La Palme, com- 
manded by the Chevalier de Langeron Maulevrier. 
The Comite of this vessel was regarded as the most 
brutal official in the squadron, but Marteilhe found 
favor with him. " There were five of the Reformed 
faith in his galley," says he. " He treated all of us 
equally, not one of the five ever received the least ill 
treatment from him. On the contrary, when the 
opportunity presented itself, he renderd us a service." 
But to the other convicts he was a perfect demon. 

When Marteilhe had been about a year in the gal- 
leys, the squadron made an attack on a Dutch ship of 
war which had become becalmed near the French 
coast. The vessel was captured after a brief engage- 
ment. This was the Huguenot's first experience in 
warfare. Two years later he was also present at an 
attack on the galleys by the Dutch Admiral Almonde, 
in which the French suffered severely. For six years 
he continued to serve in the galley La Palme, chained 
to his bench and working at the oar like a common 
felon, and suffering much from exposure and the hard 
labor required of him. He was compelled to be pres- 
ent in several battles, and once came near being ship- 
wrecked. 

During this time he was supplied with money by 
friends in France and in the Protestant countries of 
Europe, who sent their remittances through a banker 
of Dunkirk. All these sums were placed in the hands 



JEAN MARTE1LHE. 351 

rf Marteilhe, who distributed them among the Hugue- 
nots in the various galleys, using as his messenger, a 
Turk whose religion, says Marteilhe, taught him that 
he would find favor with God for exercising charity at 
the peril of his life. Finally the chaplain of the galley 
conceived a friendship for the sufferer for conscience 
sake, and secured for him a remittance which the 
banker through whom it was sent had determined to 
retain. He even offered to receive and pay over to 
Marteilhe in future, all moneys which his friends 
should send him. This good man was a Dominican 
monk. He never treated any of the fcve Huguenots in 
the galley with severity, but, on the contrary, showed 
them many kindnesses. This gave great offence to the 
Jesuit chaplains of the other galleys, who were brutal 
wretches, and they determined to punish him for his 
humanity. They accordingly drew up a memorial to 
the Bishop of Ypres, accusing the chaplain of being a 
heretic, of loving and favoring the Huguenots, and of 
leaving them in peace instead of endeavoring to com- 
pel them to enter the Roman Church. The bishop at 
once commanded the chaplain to appear before him 
and answer to these charges. Upon his compliance 
with this command, the bishop informed him of the 
charges against him, and sternly asked what he had to 
say in his defence. 

" My lord," said the chaplain, with firmness, "if 
your highness orders me to exhort them, to press them 
to listen, and to conform to the Roman Church, that is 



352 CROSS AND CROWN. 

what I do every day, and no one can prove the con- 
trary .; but if you order me to imitate the other chap- 
lains, who cruelly persecute these poor wretches, I 
shall to-morrow set out for my convent." The bishop- 
replied that he was satisfied with his defence, and cen- 
sured the Jesuit chaplains for their cruelty. 

In September, 1708, the squadron of galleys at Dun- 
kirk were placed under the command of a renegade 
English officer named Smith, for the purpose of mak- 
ing a descent upon the English coast, and burning the 
town of Harwich. The vessels left Dunkirk on the 
5th, and reached the mouth of the Thames on the 
same day. There they encountered a squadron of 
thirty-five merchant ships convoyed by a thirty-six 
gun frigate, making for the Thames. It was at once 
resolved to abandon the expedition to Harwich, and 
endeavor to secure the merchantmen. The galley La 
Palme, and another, were directed to attack the frigate, 
while the others endeavored to secure the merchant 
ships. A sharp fight now ensued, in which the galleys 
were so badly handled by the English frigate that they 
were compelled to signal for assistance. The galleys 
in chase of the merchantmen were at once recalled and 
sent to the relief of those engaged. Seeing that he 
was no match for the six galleys, the English captain 
endeavored to prolong his defence in order to give time 
to the ships under his care to enter the Thames. This 
he succeeded in doing, when he surrendered his frigate, 
the French already having carried the upper decks. 



JEAN MARTEILHE. 353 

The galleys, though successful, had suffered so much 
that they were obliged to return to Dunkirk. 

Marteilhe was severely wounded in this engagement, 
and many of the galley slaves were killed. The con- 
vict rowers of the galleys were always chained to their 
benches. The only part they took in battle was to 
propel the vessel with their oars. They were always 
exposed to the fire of the enemy, and were compelled 
to receive it without making any effort to protect them- 
selves. It was a hard fate for those being punished 
for actual crimes ; a terrible persecution to those who 
were subjected to it only on account of their religion. 
We quote the captive's vigorous description of the 
manner in which he received his wounds. 

" The frigate having seized us with her grappling 

irons, we were exposed to the fire of her artillery ; and 

our bench, on which were five convicts and a Turkish 

slave, happened to be just opposite to one of the guns 

of the frigate, which I perceived to be loaded. Our 

broadsides were touching, consequently this gun was so 

near to us that, by raising myself a little, I could have 

touched it with my hand. This unpleasant neighbor 

made us all tremble ; my companions lay down quite 

flat, thus thinking to escape its fire. On examining 

this cannon, I perceived, from the manner in which it 

was pointed, that its discharge would bear directly 

upon our bench, and that, lying down, we must receive 

it upon our bodies. Having made this observation, I 

determined to stand straight up on my bench. I could 
23 



354 CROSS AND CROWN. 

not get away.; I was chained to it; what else could I 
do? I must resign myself to pass under the fire of 
this cannon. As I was attentive to all that was pas- 
sing on board the frigate, I saw the gunner, with his 
lighted match in his hand, begin to touch the gun at 
the bows of the frigate with the fire, and then go from 
gun to gun till he came to the one which pointed upon 
our vessel; I then lifted up my heart to God, and 
uttered a short but fervent prayer, as a man who 
expects the stroke of death. I could not take my eyes 
off the gunner, who kept gradually approaching our 
gun, as he applied his match in succession to the others. 
Now he came to this fatal gun ; I had the courage to 
watch him put the portfire to the gun, still standing 
straight up, and commending my soul to my Saviour. 
The cannon fired ; I was suddenly stunned and thrown 
prostrate, not upon the bench, but in the centre of the 
galley, as far off as my chain could extend. Here I 
lay, stunned and unconscious, stretched across the body 
of the lieutenant, who was killed, for I know not how 
long, but I imagine it must have been a considerable 
time. At last, however, I regained my senses. Eais- 
ing myself from the lieutenant's body, I returned to 
my bench. It was night, and I saw neither the blood 
nor the carnage which was upon the bench, by reason 
of the darkness. I first thought that my comrades 
were still lying down for fear of the cannon. I did 
not know that I was wounded, feeling no pain, and I 
said to my companions, 'Get up lads, the danger is 



JEAN MARTEILHE. 355 

over.' But I received no answer. The Turk on the 
bench, who had been a Janissary, and who had boasted 
that he was never afraid, remained prostrate like the 
others, and I said jokingly, ' What, Isouf ! this is the 
first time you have been afraid. Come, get up;' and at 
the same time I took him by the arm to help him. 
But oh ! horror ! which makes me still shudder when 
I think of it — his arm, separated from his body, 
remained in my hand. With terror I let fall the arm 
of this unhappy fellow, and perceived that he, as well 
as the four others, were literally hewn in pieces, for all 
the shot from the gun had fallen upon them. I sat 
down upon the bench. 

"I had not been long in this attitude when I felt 
something cold and damp streaming down upon my 
body, which was naked. I put my hand to it, and 
felt distinctly that it was wet, but could not in the 
darkness distinguish if it was blood. But I soon found 
that it was, and streaming from a large wound which 
went quite through my shoulder. I felt another on 
my left leg, below the knee, as deep as the one in my 
shoulder, and a third, nearly a foot long and four 
inches broad in my stomach. I was losing an im- 
mense quantity of blood, without being able to get 
assistance from any one, all around me being dead, as 
well in my bench as in the two adjoining ones, so that 
of the eighteen men who were in these three benches, 
I alone had escaped with my three wounds. I was 
then obliged to wait for assistance till the combat was 
over 



356 CROSS AND CROWN. 

" The first thing done on board our galley was to 
throw the dead into the sea, and carry the wounded 
into the hold. But God knows how many wretches 
were thrown into the sea as dead who were not really 
so ; for in this darkness and confusion they took for 
dead those who had only fainted, either through fear 
or loss of blood from their wounds. I found myself in 
this extremity, for when the argousins came to my 
bench to unchain the dead and wounded, I had fallen 
down in a fainting fit, and lay motionless and uncon- 
scious among the others, bathed in their blood and 
my own. These argousins at once concluded that all 
belonging to this bench were dead. They only un- 
chained them and threw them into the sea, without 
further examining whether they were dead or alive ; it 
was quite enough if they did not hear them cry out or 
speak. They unchained me to throw me into the sea, 
judging me to be dead. Now it must be remembered 
that I was chained by the left leg, and that it was in 
this leg that I was wounded. One argousin seized me by 
this leg to drag me up, while another was unfastening 
the bolt of the iron ring which held my chain. The 
latter, happily for me, put his hand upon my wound, 
which caused me so great pain that I raised a great 
cry, and I heard the argousin say, ' This man is not 
dead ; ' and imagining at once that they were going to 
throw me into the sea, I exclaimed (for this pain had 
brought back my consciousness), c No, no; I am not 
dead.' They took me down to the bottom of the hold 



JEAN MARTEILEE. 357 

among the other wounded, and threw me down upon 
a cable. What a strange place of repose for a wounded 
man agonized with pain." 

Three days after the battle the galleys arrived at 
Dunkirk, and Marteilhe, exhausted with loss of blood, 
and with his wounds gangrened, was conveyed to the 
hospital. Here his friend the banker secured for him 
the personal services of the chief surgeon, who was a 
man of skill, and through whose efforts he recovered, 
after a confinement of three months. 

By the law of France, all galley slaves wounded in 
battle were given their freedom. Marteilhe was denied 
this privilege. He was a Huguenot, and the king and 
the Jesuits cut him off from that which was willingly 
accorded to the meanest criminal. Although unfit for 
service at the oar, in consequence of his wounds, he 
was sent back to his galley, and chained again to his 
bench. In a little while, however, thanks to the kind- 
ness of the Gomite, he was given the place of secretary 
to the captain. This freed him from his hard service 
at the oar, and gave him the privilege of living in the 
cabin, where his duties were merely clerical. Here he 
remained until October, 1712, nearly four years. He 
was well fed, was free from his chain, with only an 
iron ring around his ankle. He had a good bed and 
perfect rest, while the others were laboring at the oars. 
The commander of the galley became quite fond of 
him, as did his nephew, the major of the six galleys, 
who also made the Huguenot his secretary. Marteilhe 



358 CROSS AND CROWN. 

exerted himself to merit their favor, and discharged 
his duties with an energy and efficiency which aston- 
ished as well as delighted them. 

In the year 1712, Dunkirk was given up to the 
English. The French navy, however, was reduced to 
such straits that it was impossible for the galleys in 
that harbor to put to sea, and it was agreed between 
the French and English Governments that the galleys 
and the gangs of slaves should remain in that port 
until the spring. The English officers and soldiers of 
the garrison, being Protestants, manifested great inter- 
est in the Huguenots confined in the galleys, and came 
in crowds to see them, and converse with them, justly 
regarding them as martyrs for their religion. The 
Jesuit chaplains, endeavored to prevent these visits, 
but the English reminded the French commander that 
they were masters of the place, and of the galleys as 
long as they remained in the port. The officers urged 
Lord Hill, the English commander, to call the attention 
of Queen Anne to the sufferings of these heroic Chris- 
tians, and to endeavor to secure their release through 
her. Lord Hill sent a message to the prisoners, assuring 
them of his sympathy, and at the same time secretly 
urged the French naval commander to send all the 
Huguenot galley slaves away by sea, and even placed 
a vessel at his service for this purpose. The sufferings 
of twenty-two poor prisoners were nothing to this great 
English lord. He was not willing to be annoyed by the 
appeals of his officers in their behalf, and as he feared 



JEA N MARTE1LHE. 359 

i 

that bis soldiers would release them by force, and thus 
create fresh trouble with France, he was anxious to get 
them out of the way as soon as possible. Accordingly, 
on the 1st of October, 1712, the twenty-two Huguenot 
captives were placed in a fishing smack provided by 
Lord Hill, and furnished with a pass by him, without 
which she could not have left the harbor, and con- 
veyed to Calais, whence they were sent, loaded with 
chains to Havre-de-Grace. Here they were confined 
in the prison of the town, where they were visited by 
crowds of people. Many of these were Protestants, 
others were those who had recanted and gone over to 
Rome rather than suffer persecution. These new con- 
verts wept bitterly at the sight of the captives, and in 
the presence of the priests declared their sorrow for 
their apostasy. The priests became alarmed at this 
display of sympathy, and caused the Court to order the 
prisoners to be sent on to Paris. 

They reached 'Paris on the 17th of November, 1712, 
and were imprisoned in the terrible dungeons of the 
Tournelle. Marteilhe describes it as the most fearful 
prison he had ever seen. " It is," says he, " a large 
dungeon, or rather a spacious cellar, furnished with 
huge beams of oak, placed at the distance of about 
three feet apart. These beams are about two feet and 
a half in thickness, and are so arranged and fixed in 
some way to the floor, that at the first sight one would 
take them for benches, but their use is a much more 
uncomfortable one. To these beams thick iron chains 



;U>0 CROSS AiXD CROWN. 

are attached, one and a half feet in length, and two 
feet apart, and at the end of these chains is an iron 
collar. When the wretched galley slaves arrive in 
this dungeon, they are made io lie half down, so that 
their heads may rest upon the beam; then this collar 
is put round their necks, closed, and riveted on an 
anvil with heavy blows of a hammer. As these chains 
with collar are about two feet apart, and as the beams 
arc generally forty feet long, twenty men are chained 
to them in tile. This cellar, which is round, is so 
large, that in this way they can chain tip as many as 
five hundred men. There is nothing so dreadful as to 
behold the attitude and postures oi^ these wretches 
there chained. For a man so bound cannot lie down 
at full length, the beam upon which his head is fixed 
being too high ; neither can he sit. nor stand upright, 
the beam being too low ; 1 cannot better describe the 
posture o( such a man than by saying he is half-lying, 
half-sitting, part ol^ his body being upon the stones 
or flooring, the other part upon this beam. . . . One 
hears in this horrible cavern only groans and mournful 
lamentations, capable o( softening any other hearts 
than those of the ferocious officials o{ this terrible 
place. The scanty relief of uttering these lamenta- 
tions is even denied to the pitiable slaves, for every 
night five or six brutes of turnkeys form the guard in 
the dungeon, and they fall without mercy upon those 
who speak, cry. groan, or lament, barbarously striking 
them with huge ox-bones." Many ot^ those confined 



JEAN MARTEILHE. 361 

in this awful place died, and many more who survived 
were injured for life by their sufferings there. 

Marteilhe and his companions were chained in this 
barbarous manner, and kept in this position for three 
days, during which time, he says, they came near 
dying, especially the old men. At length one of their 
friends residing in Paris paid the governor of the 
prison to chain them near the window where they 
could enjoy the fresh air. They were then fastened 
to the floor by chains long enough to permit them to 
stand up or lie down, and this was a great relief to 
them. 

Marteilhe had been a prisoner for twelve years, ten 
of which had been passed in the galleys. He was 
now given to understand that he and his companions 
were to be sent to Marseilles, to be placed in the gal- 
leys at that place. On the 17th of December they set 
out from Paris, with the rest of the gang, about four 
hundred in number. The galley slaves were chained 
by the neck in couples, with a thick chain about three 
feet long, in the middle of which was a round ring. 
After being secured by the neck, they were placed in 
files of two, and a long and thick chain was passed 
through all the rings, the whole gang being thus fast- 
ened together. The friends of the Huguenot captives 
purchased from the officer in charge of the chain an 
exemption for their brethren from flogging during the 
journey, and paid him an additional sum to provide 
wagons for those who should be unable to walk. 



362 



CROSS AND CROWN. 



The chain left Paris about four o'clock in the after- 
noon, and halted for the night at Charenton. Here 
the prisoners were stripped, and kept standing for 
several hours in the bitter cold, while their clothing 
was searched, under the pretext of looking for money, 
knives, files, or tools which might be used in breaking 
or cutting the chain. Some of the poor captives were 
terribly frozen, and some died on the spot. The Hu- 
guenots escaped unharmed. Marseilles was reached 
on the 17th of January, 1713, after a terrible journey 
of one month, during which all the convicts suffered 
very greatly. The Huguenots reached their destina- 
tion in good health, in spite of their sufferings. " I 
suffered more," says Marteilhe, " than I had done dur- 
ing the twelve previous years of my imprisonment and 
servitude at the galleys." 

Marteilhe was placed on board the Grande Reale, 
with the other Huguenots, and they made with those 
already on that vessel, forty galley slaves suffering on 
account of their religion. They were here directly 
under the supervision of the Jesuit missionaries. 
These priests exerted all their arts to make the mar- 
tyrs abandon their faith, and finding their efforts use- 
less, applied themselves to the task of rendering their 
lot more painful. They even undertook to force the 
Huguenot prisoners to fall on their knees uncovered, 
and remain in this attitude of devotion every time 
Mass was said on board the galleys, and they caused 
all who refused to do t^is to be punished with the 



JEAN MARTEILHE. 353 

bastinado. When this was reported to the ambassa- 
dors of the Protestant powers at the French Court, 
they addressed a remonstrance to the king. Even 
Louis was shocked at the cruelty of the Jesuits, and 
ordered its instant cessation, declaring that it had 
been done without his knowledge. The missionaries 
constantly offered pardon and liberty to the Huguenots 
if they would conform to the Romish Church, but 
their offers were alwaj^s refused ; whereupon they de- 
clared that no Huguenot should be released until he 
recanted. 

Meanwhile the Protestant powers of Europe were 
exerting themselves to secure the release of the poor 
captives. Their efforts were at length successful. In 
1713, the Queen of England requested of the French 
King the release of those Huguenots who had been 
sent to the galleys for their religion. Under the cir- 
cumstances this request amounted to a demand, "which 
Louis was in no condition to refuse. It was a dis- 
agreeable necessity to him, and a severe check to his 
Jesuit advisers. He replied with the best grace he 
could that the prisoners would be released on condi- 
tion of their leaving his dominions forever; and to- 
wards the end of May, 1713, orders were sent from 
Paris to the Governor of Marseilles to release one 
hundred and thirty-six of the Huguenot galley slaves, 
who were named in the order. There were over 
three hundred such sufferers in the galleys at this 
place, and the rest were not released until a year 



364 CROSS AND CROWN. 

later. Marteilhe's name was on the list sent down 
from Paris. 

The governor, upon the receipt of the order of the 
king, summoned the Jesuit missionaries, and communi- 
cated it to them. The priests were furious, and said 
that the king had been betrayed and over-reached, and 
that to release the Huguenots would be an eternal blot 
upon the Komish Church. They induced him to keep 
the order from those affected by it, for a fortnight, and 
at once despatched a messenger to Versailles, urging the 
Court to recall the order. The secret, however, leaked 
out, and those whose names were mentioned in the 
order became aware that their release had been or- 
dered. Three weeks passed away, but no orders came 
from the king to detain the captives. The missionaries 
were furious, and demanded of the governor another 
week in order to send another message to Versailles. 
Again' they failed to receive the reply they expected, 
and the governor, afraid to delay any longer the execu- 
tion of the royal order, told them he could listen to 
them no longer. The king gave the released prisoners 
the privilege of leaving the kingdom by any means 
they liked, but the Jesuits induced the governor to in- 
form them that they would be compelled to quit France 
by sea. The Jesuits believed, that as the poor prison- 
ers would not be able to find a ship in the harbor to 
take them to England or Holland, they would be ob- 
liged to remain in Marseilles for a considerable time, 
during which the priests hoped to be able to devise 
some means of returning them to their captivity. 



< JEAN MARTEILHE. 365 

The governor at last communicated to the fortunate 
ones the order for their release, and gave them permis- 
sion to go about the harbor and search for a vessel to 
take them away. They succeeded in finding one, but 
the Jesuits, unable to persecute them in any other way, 
compelled them to go to the expense of hiring two 
others. They threw every obstacle in their way, and 
were overcome with rage and mortification at finding 
they could not prevent their departure. The superior 
of the Jesuits, Father Garcin, was so filled with anger 
and disappointment, that he left Marseilles, rather 
than witness the release and departure of his victims. 

At length, on the 17th of June, 1713, Marteilhe in 
company with thirty-five others, comprising the detach- 
ment to sail in the first vessel, was formally released 
from his long captivity. They were detained in the 
harbor for three days, by unfavorable weather, and on 
the 21st put to sea. On the 24th they reached Villa- 
franca in the kingdom of Sardinia, from which place 
they made their way to Turin. At Turin they were 
admitted to an audience with King Victor Amadeus, 
who rendered them great assistance in their journey to 
Geneva, to which city they were all bound. They 
crossed the Alps safely, and arrived in the vicinity of 
Geneva on a Sunday morning. 

" We wished," says Marteilhe, " to go on without 
stopping, so great was our ardor to be as soon as possible 
in a city which we regarded as our Jerusalem. But 
our postilion told us that the gates of Geneva w T ere 



366 CROSS AND CROWN. 

never open on Sunday till after Divine service, that is, 
till about four o'clock in the afternoon. We were 
obliged, therefore, to remain in the village till that 
time, when we all again mounted our horses. As we 
approached the town, we perceived a great concourse 
of people coming out of it. Our postilion appeared 
surprised, but was much more so when arriving at the 
Plain-Palais, a quarter of a league from the town, he 
perceived three carriages coming to meet us, surrounded 
by halberdiers, and an immense crowd of people of both 
sexes and all ages, who followed them. A servant of 
the magistracy now advanced towards us, and begged 
us to alight that we might salute with respect and de- 
corum their excellencies of Geneva, who came to meet 
us and bid us welcome. We obeyed. The three car- 
riages having approached, a magistrate and a minister 
descended from each, and came to embrace us with 
tears of joy, and with such pathetic expressions, con- 
gratulations, and praise for our constancy and resigna- 
tion, that they far surpassed what we deserved. We 
replied by praising and magnifying the grace of God, 
which alone had sustained us in our great tribulations. 
After these hearty greetings, their excellencies gave 
permission to the people to approach. Then was seen 
the most touching spectacle that can be imagined, for 
several inhabitants of Geneva had relations at the gal- 
leys, and these good citizens were ignorant whether 
those for whom they had sighed for so many years 
were amongst us. As soon then, as their excellencies 



JEAN MARTE1LHE. 307 

gave the people permission to approach, one heard only 
a confused noise : ' My son ! my husband ! my brother ! 
are you there ? ' Imagine the embraces given to those 
of our party who were among the recognized." 

The martyrs were warmly received in Geneva, and 
were taken by the citizens to their homes, where they 
were treated with the most affectionate consideration, 
the good people thinking that they could not do enough 
to testify their regard for those who had suffered so 
much for their common faith. Marteilhe did not re- 
main long in Geneva, but fastened on to Frankfort, 
from which place he passed into Holland, where he 
ultimately settled. He. was received with the warmest 
affection by the Dutch Church, which had become ac- 
quainted with his sufferings, and was always treated 
with the consideration to which his heroism entitled 
him, wherever he went. He lived to a good old age, 
and, having married, died, leaving a family behind him. 
The French Church has always cherished his memory, 
and still mentions with pride and veneration, the name 
of the boy of sixteen, who chose to go to the galleys 
rather than deny his faith, and there suffer persecution, 
rather than betray his Lord. 




VII. 
THE MARTYRS OF TOULOUSE. 

HE persecutions of the Protestants of France did 
not cease with the death of Louis XIV. Under 
his successor, Louis XV., some of the cruellest 
of their sufferings occurred. Rome being the 
author of their woes, it made but little difference who 
was king or minister, so long as the priests, and espe- 
cially the Jesuits, were supreme at Court. Their policy 
was unchanging, and they offered to the Huguenots but 
two alternatives, submission or death. 

It was during the reign of Louis XV., towards the 
close of the year 1761, that the pastor Francis Rochette 
was arrested in the south of France for preaching the 
Gospel to the Huguenots of that region. When charged 
with his offence, he frankly acknowledged it, and was 
committed to prison, to await his trial. It was a ter- 
rible crime in the eyes of the priests to preach Jesus 
Christ as the only Mediator and Advocate for sinful 
man, and they were determined that the young minister 
should die. 

Among the friends of the pastor were three young 
men of noble birth, named Grenier, who had for some 
time been members of his congregation, and who were 

368 



THE MARTYRS OF TOULOUSE. 369 

resolved that he should not perish if they could save 
him. They were fully aware of the risk they ran in 
attempting to rescue one who had been condemned for 
heresy, but they were not deterred by this consideration 
from making the effort. A plan was accordingly ar- 
ranged for the escape of the pastor, but just as it seemed 
on the eve of success, it was betrayed, and the three 
friends of the captive were themselves arrested and 
thrown into the prison in which their pastor lay. They 
were all allowed to remain there unnoticed for several 
months, the Jesuits hoping by means of this close con- 
finement to weaken their resolution, and prepare them 
to apostatize. 

On the 17th of February 1762, they were brought to 
trial before the Parliament of Toulouse. They ac- 
knowledged that they were guilty of the charges 
brought against them, and were in consequence con- 
demned to death. The pastor was to be hanged, and 
the three brothers, the eldest of whom was not twenty- 
two years old, were to be beheaded. The sentence was 
to be carried into effect on the 19th of the month, two 
days after the trial. 

The prisoners had long expected this fate, and had 
been for some time prepared for it, and after being re- 
manded to prison, devoted themselves to preparing for 
death. As they occupied the same cell, they were able 
to comfort and encourage each other with their pious 
exhortations and prayers. They were not left in peace, 

however, for they were immediately beset by a number 
24 



370 



CROSS AND CROWN. 



of priests, who came, they said, to prepare them for 
death, and to exhort them to be reconciled to Rome. 
The prisoners assured the priests that they had no need 
of them ; that they were ready to die, and were rejoiced 
to sacrifice their lives in the cause of God and the 
truth. The priests then renewed their efforts and as- 
sured the captives that they were authorized by the 
Attorney General to promise them their lives and 
liberty if they would recant. All four of the prisoners 
with one voice, unhesitatingly rejected this offer, and 
M. Rochette earnestly begged of the priests that they 
would put an end to their useless importunities, and 
not continue to trouble him and his friends in their 
last moments, but suffer them to die in peace, at the 
same time expressing to them his thanks for their well 
meant zeal in behalf of himself and his fellow-prisoners. 
One of the priests brutally told him that he would 
surely be damned for his obstinate refusal to listen to 
them. M. Rochette replied tranquilly that they were 
going to appear before a more equitable Judge, the 
Judge who had shed His blood for their salvation. 
Then turning to his fellow-captives, he exhorted them 
to be strong and to persevere in the true cause. An- 
other priest interrupted him, and said that the Church 
alone had power to remit sins, and that the crime of 
heresy was without forgiveness unless repentance and 
atonement were made before death. The pastor closed 
the conference by telling them that the Protestant re- 
ligion acknowledged no such power, and looked for the 



THE MARTYRS OF TOULOUSE. 371 

pardon of sins to one source only — the mercy of God, 
in Jesus Christ. 

The priests then went away, and the Huguenot mar- 
tyrs gave themselves up to prayer. The soldiers ap- 
pointed to guard them were placed in the cell with them, 
as was customary in those days. Upon the conclusion 
of their prayers, the prisoners turned to these men, and 
thanked them for the kind treatment they had received 
from them, and asked pardon for any offence they 
might have given them. The soldiers overcome by 
this appeal, and full of sympathy for the heroic suf- 
ferers whose fate they sincerely deplored, burst into 
tears. The pastor approaching one of them, said 
earnestly : 

"My good friend, are you not ready and willing to 
die for your king? Why then do you pity me, who 
am going to death for God ? " 

The next afternoon about one o'clock, the priests re- 
turned. Having but a few hours longer to live, the 
prisoners were desirous of passing that time in prayer, 
and requested them to retire, but the priests refused. 

" It is from a concern for your salvation that we are 
here," said they. 

Upon hearing this, the youngest of the brothers Gre- 
nier said to them : 

" If you were at Geneva, at the point of death from 
disease, 'for there nobody is put to death on account of 
religion, would you choose to be teased and importuned 
in your last moments by four or five Protestant minis- 



372 CROSS AND CROWN. 

ters, under the pretence of zeal for your salvation ? 
Do, therefore, as you would be, done by." 

This mild but pointed rebuke had no effect. The 
prisoners retired to a corner of their cell to pray, but 
the priests followed them, thrusting crucifixes before 
their faces, and annoying them with appeals and 
threats. 

" Speak," said the eldest of the Greniers, " speak of 
Him who died for our sins and rose again for our justifi- 
cation, and we will listen to you ; but do not trouble us 
with your vain superstitions." 

About an hour later, the officers appointed to super- 
intend their execution arrived at the prison, and had 
the martyrs brought from their dungeon to the prison 
yard. There they were placed in a wagon, and con- 
ducted under a strong escort to the gate of the Cathe- 
dral. Here the wagon was made to stand still, and the 
pastor was ordered to step to the giound, and on his 
knees to ask pardon of God, the king, and the law, for 
having continued to preach the doctrines of his religion 
in opposition to the royal edict. He refused twice to 
do this, and was then told by the officials that that 
which was required of him was only a formality to 
which every prisoner condemned to be hanged was 
obliged to submit. The pastor replied that he would 
neither acknowledge nor submit to any formality that 
was contrary to the dictates of his conscience. 

Upon hearing* this answer the officials fell upon him, 
and striking him violently forced him to leave the 



THE MARTYRS OF TOULOUSE. 373 

wagon. He then fell upon his knees, and clasping his 
hands exclaimed : 

" I humbly ask of Almighty God the pardon of all 
my sins, in the full persuasion of obtaining the re- 
mission of them through the blood of Christ. With 
respect to the king, I have no pardon to ask of him, 
having never offended him. I always honored and 
loved him, as the father of my country. I always 
have been to him a good and faithful subject; and, of 
this my judges themselves appeared to be fully con- 
vinced. I always recommended to my flock, patience, 
obedience, and submission. If I have acted in opposition 
to the laws which prohibited our religious assemblies, I 
did this in obedience to the laws of Him who is the 
King of kings. With respect to public justice, I have 
nothing to say, but this, that I never offended it ; and 
I most earnestly pray that God will vouchsafe to par- 
don my judges." 

The officers were as much offended as astonished at 
these words, and declared that they were not sufficient, 
but that the pastor must confess his crime and ask 
pardon for it. The martyr, however, knowing the 
injustice of his sentence, and seeing the desire of his 
enemies to humiliate his Church as well as himself, 
refused to make any further confession, declaring that 
he had said all he intended saying, and the officers 
were obliged to relinquish their effort. The three 
noblemen having been exempted from hanging because 
of their rank, were not, for a similar reason, required 
to make any confession. 



374 CROSS AND CROWN. 

From the cathedral the wagon and its escort set off 
for the place of martyrdom. The usual place of execu- 
tion had not been selected for this occasion, but the 
scaffold had been set up in one of the smallest squares 
of the city, in order that only a few people should 
witness the tragedy. The streets from the cathedral to 
the scaffold were lined on both sides with troops, the 
authorities pretending that this precaution was neces- 
sary to prevent the Protestants from rescuing the pris- 
oners. There was no danger of this, however, for the 
small number of Protestant ' families residing in the 
city, had shut themselves up in their houses, where 
they were mourning for their martyr brethren, and 
praying to God to give them strength to suffer bravely 
for His name. There was considerable sympathy for 
the martyrs expressed by the Eoman Catholic popula- 
tion, for all felt and the majority openly denounced the 
injustice and barbarity of the execution. The priests, 
however, were resolved that their victims should not 
escape; but even they all powerful as they were could 
not prevent the expressions of sympathy with which 
their own people greeted the martyrs as they passed 
on to their death. The windows of the houses along the 
route and of the square overlooking the scaffold were 
filled with the citizens, and all along the route sobs, 
and cries of pity were heard from the people. " One 
would have thought," says a letter written the next 
day, "that Toulouse was, all on a sudden, become a 
Protestant city." One of the priests appointed to 



THE MARTYRS OF TOULOUSE. 375 

accompany the martyrs to the scaffold, now became 
conscience stricken, and fainted away. He was re- 
moved, and another put in his place. 

The martyrs alone were calm and cheerful. The 
face of the pastor was even smiling, and his compan- 
ions were as serene as if going to a triumph — as indeed 
they were. As they neared the scaffold, they broke 
out into the triumphant strains of the 118th Psalm : 

" This is the day which the Lord hath made ; 
We will rejoice and be glad in it. 
God is the Lord who hath showed us light : 
Bind the sacrifice with cords, even to the horns of the altar. 

" Thou art my God, and I will praise Thee ; 
Thou art my God, and I will exalt Thee. 
O, give thanks unto the Lord, for He is good ; 
For His mercy endureth forever." 

The sobs and cries of the people redoubled, the 
officials turned pale, the soldiers showed signs of 
agitation, and even the priests were troubled. Still 
singing their triumphant song, the martyrs mounted 
the scaffold, and stood awaiting their doom. 

Approaching the pastor, the executioner said to him 
that he was ordered to put him to death first. The 
man, in an agitated voice, urged him to become a Roman 
Catholic, and live, assuring him it was the best reli- 
gion. The pastor smiled, and said to him, gently : , 

"Judge, friend, which is the best religion, that 
which persecutes, or that which is persecuted." He 
added that his grandfather and one of his uncles had 
died for the pure Gospel of Christ, and that he should 
make the third martyr of his family. 



376 CROSS AND CROWN. 

Then he bade a tender farewell to his companions, 
and placed himself in the hands of the executioner. 
He was quickly bound, and the fatal noose was placed 
around his neck. The next moment his lifeless body 
was trembling in the air. His' soul had passed through 
the dark waters of affliction to the shores of the 
heavenly land. 

Two of the young noblemen beheld with unshaken 
firmness the death of their pastor and friend, but the 
youngest, unable to bear the sight, turned away and 
covered his face with his hands. The officers of the 
Parliament then advanced to them, and told them that 
they would receive a full pardon and their freedom 
if they would return to the Church of Home. They 
refused, and embraced each other tenderly. The first 
and the second were executed. When he came to the 
third, the executioner, almost overcome with horror, 
begged him to abjure. " Do thy duty," replied the 
heroic boy, as he laid his head on the block. The axe 
gleamed in the sunlight, and the brothers and their 
pastor were united in Heaven. 

The crowd had looked on in solemn silence, horror- 
stricken at the sight of the death of these innocent 
men. Roman Catholics as they were, they could not 
sanction it, and when it w r as all over they went home 
wondering if, indeed, a religion which could send such 
men to the scaffold was the true faith of Him who 
declared that His was the Gospel of love and peace. 

" Wherein, then, consists the power of the martyr ? " 



THE MARTYRS OF TOULOUSE. 377 

says a Eoman Catholic orator. " It consists in his 
being right, and altogether right, and in being able to 
say ? Kill me ! but ye .shall not make me speak any- 
thing but what I now speak. I know no power in the 
world more formidable than that of a man strong in 
his convictions, and allowing himself to be put to 
death for his doctrines. It was thus that the salva- 
tion of the world began." 




VIII. 

FULCRAND REY. 

ENTION has been made in the sketch of Claude 
Brousson, of the young pastor Fulcrand Key, 
)^> who gave up his life for his faith at the early 
age of twenty-four years. He was born at 
Nismes, of Huguenot parents, and was from his child- 
hood devoted to the sacred ministry. His parents 
were aware of the risk attending the exercise of the 
ministerial functions of the Huguenot pastors, but they 
were willing that their son should brave all in the 
cause of the truth. Young Rey himself was well in- 
formed from his boyhood of the trials and afflictions 
which encompassed the path he was to tread, but he 
became only the more anxious, in spite of this, to de- 
vote himself to the sacred task of carrying the Gospel 
to those who were deprived of it. As he became old 
enough, he applied himself with enthusiasm to the 
studies which were to fit him for his sacred profession. 
His ardent and zealous temperament well qualified 
him for the life of danger he was to lead, and his 
native eloquence, as well as the unusual sweetness and 
firmness of his disposition, foreshadowed him as one 

destined to do a good work in the Church. In due time 

378 



FLLGRAND bey. 379 

his studies were completed, and he was ordained a 
minister of Christ according to the forms of the Pro- 
testant Church in France. 

During his period of preparation, he was constantly 
a hearer of the accounts of the sufferings of his 
brethren in the faith in France, and was deeply 
moved by the stories of sorrow and suffering which 
thus reached him. But what touched him most of 
all was the spiritual desolation of the Church. The 
persecution had become so fierce that it was with 
difficulty that ministers could perform the duties of 
their office even in secret, and where there were 
pastors in readiness to discharge their functions, the 
people could scarcely be gotten together for pur- 
poses of worship, so greatly had they been scattered. 
Especially was this so in the South of France. Ful- 
crand Rey felt from the first that his mission was to 
gather these scattered sheep together in one fold, and 
minister to them as their faithful shepherd. Imme- 
diately after his ordination he began his labors. He 
went first into Upper Languedoc and Guienne, where 
he was a stranger, and where the risk of recognition 
by the Jesuits and their emissaries was not as great 
as in the neighborhood of Nismes, intending to acquire 
in this comparatively sheltered section the experience 
which would fit him for the more dangerous field upon 
which he meant to enter somewhat later. He did not 
meet with the success he anticipated at first, for the 
people were so much alarmed by the merciless cruelty 



380 CROSS AND CROWN. 

with which the French Church had been treated by 
the Romanists that they were afraid to assemble for 
worship, or even to listen to the exhortations, or follow 
the counsels of the young minister. They were un- 
willing even to provide him with a place of refuge, 
being afraid of the priests and the dragoons. Though 
greatly discouraged, the pastor did not abandon his 
efforts altogether. By repeated exertions he succeeded 
in gathering together two or three small assemblies of 
the faithful, being assisted in his labors by two Pro- 
testant gentlemen, who were themselves seeking con- 
cealment from the Roman Catholics, who were endeav- 
oring to arrest them for having refused to adopt the 
Romish religion. The prospect was not encouraging, 
however, and the people were not willing to give the 
pastor a permanent shelter, so he was at length obliged 
to abandon the undertaking. 

From Upper Languedoc, he went back to the neigh- 
berhood of Nismes. He was affectionately received by 
the brethren there, who being bolder and more zealous 
than those to whom he had first addressed himself, 
readily responded to his appeals. Several congrega- 
tions were formed in a short time, and the young 
pastor served them alternately, preaching and minis- 
tering to them regularly. In the midst of his labors 
he was betrayed by a wretch whom he had taken into 
his confidence, and who was thus made fully acquainted 
with his plans, his habits, and the places he frequented. 
The dragoons were at once put upon his track, and 



FUL CRAND BE Y. 331 

though he received timely warning, they pressed him 
so closely that he had great difficulty in escaping them. 
He and his friends regarded his escape as providential, 
as indeed it was, for nothing but the hand of God 
could have rescued him from the toils which had been 
so cunningly laid for him. He retired into Languedoc, 
and from that province passed into Albigeois, but his 
enemies followed him so watchfully that he was finally 
obliged to return to the vicinity of Nismes. Upon 
arriving there, he found it impossible to continue his 
pastoral labors. The Eomanists had greatly increased 
their vigilance, and it was impossible for the Protest- 
ants to meet at all without being attacked and killed 
or captured by the dragoons. More than this, the 
priests and their spies were so watchful that a Hugue- 
not could not appear in public without being marked 
by them* and M. Key's friends urged him to remain 
in close concealment, since to venture abroad was to 
invite certain capture. Much against his inclination, 
he was compelled to follow this advice. It was impos- 
sible for him to do any good, as he could not reach the 
brethren to whom he wished to minister, and he could 
confer no benefit upon the Church by needlessly incur- 
ring danger. Nevertheless, he was resolved not to be 
idle. From his place of concealment he addressed elo- 
quent letters to his suffering brethren confined in the 
prisons of the province, urging them to bear their suf- 
ferings bravely, and to endure everything for the sake 
of the Saviour who died for them. He implored them 



382 



CROSS AND CROWN. 



not to desert their faith, but to remember that their 
afflictions here on earth would be as nothing compared 
with their reward in Heaven. These letters were con- 
veyed to their destination by trusty messengers, and 
they had the desired effect. Many of those who were 
wavering, were encouraged to persevere, and others 
who were resolute in their intention to die for Christ 
felt themselves made stronger and braver by the coun- 
sels and consolations of the young pastor. 

While he was thus occupied, M. Key was called 
from his retirement, and asked to go into the Ceven- 
nes, where there was a large body of Huguenots who 
were greatly in need of a pastor. The post thus 
offered to him was one of great danger, and it was 
almost certain that he who accepted it would find it 
but a stepping-stone to a martyr's grave. Baville, the 
cruel Intendant or Governor of Languedoc, was waging 
a merciless war upon the Huguenots of the Cevennes, 
and was hunting them with his troops through the 
mountains and compelling them to live in caves, in the 
woods, and in the most inaccessible mountain gorges. 
There was scarcely a day but witnessed the violent 
death of some Cevenol Christian at the hands of the 
creatures of the Jesuit rulers of France, and it was the 
boast of the Roman Catholics that the war would be 
carried on until the last heretic had recanted or been 
put to death. These considerations did not deter Ful- 
crand Rey. It was enough for him that there was a 
band of fellow Christians in need of a pastor and will- 



FULCRAND BEY. 383 

ing to brave any danger in order to worship God as 
their consciences required. He would go to them, 
serve them as long as he could, and if it should please 
God to call upon him to glorify his Master by his suf- 
ferings, he would lay down his life with joy. 

He accepted the call, but appreciating the magni- 
tude of the danger he was incurring, he was unwilling 
to subject his father or himself to the pain of a per- 
sonal adieu. He accordingly wrote to him, announc- 
ing his acceptance of the call to the Cevennes, and 
setting before him plainly the risk which would accom- 
pany his labors there. He entreated him to prepare 
himself for the early martyrdom of his son ; and told 
him that his conscience required him to go, and if 
necessary to sacrifice himself for God, and for the 
interests of the Church. He said he was entirely 
resigned to the will of his heavenly Master, in what- 
ever way He might see fit to dispose of him ; and he 
exhorted his father not to murmur, in case he should 
hear that he was arrested, but to endure patiently all 
the sufferings it should please God to send him. 

Upon reaching the Cevennes, he at once entered 
upon his labors. He found the people not only will- 
ing, but anxious to hear him, and he preached to them 
constantly, moving them profoundly with his wonder- 
ful eloquence. His preaching was attended with great 
success, and crowds flocked to listen to him. The 
effect of his labors was visible in the increased zeal 
and heroism of the Huguenots. The number of apos- 



384 CBOSS AND CROWN. 

tates decreased, while the number of martyrs increased. 
The priests were quick to perceive this, and upon seek- 
ing to ascertain the cause, learned of the presence and 
labors of M. Rey. A price was at once set upon his 
head, and efforts were made to secure him. 

At this time he was lying concealed in the house 
of a tanner, in the suburbs of Anduze. His place of 
retreat was known to only a few of his friends, but one 
of these, tempted by the reward offered for the appre- 
hension of the pastor, determined to betray him. He 
accordingly conducted the royal officers to the house 
of the tanner, which they quickly surrounded with 
troops. M. Rey, seeing that escape was impossible, 
at once surrendered himself. He was seized by the 
dragoons, and dragged with great violence before a 
magistrate, by whom he was sent to prison until the 
pleasure of the Government concerning him could be 
known. The dragoons were stationed at the door of 
his cell, with orders to keep him constantly in view, 
lest he should find some means of escaping. He was 
not kept long at Anduze, but was speedily transferred 
to the prison of Alez. Here he was visited by a num- 
ber of monks who endeavored to induce him to recant. 
He repelled them gently, but firmly, telling them he 
had no need of them. At Alez he underwent his pre- 
liminary examination. He frankly acknowledged that 
he had preached often to his Huguenot brethren, and 
at every place where he could find persons willing to 
listen to him. The magistrates then demanded of him 



I 



FULCBAND BEY. 385 

the names of those who had attended his preaching, 
and the exact localities at which the assemblies had 
been held. He refused to answer these questions, or 
to reveal anything that would compromise his friends. 
The magistrates then ordered him to lie conveyed to 
Nismes, to be tried by the Court sitting at that place. 

His father and nearly all his relations resided at 
Nismes, and M. Eey feared that they might in a 
moment of weakness seek to induce him to save his 
life at the sacrifice of his faith. This he was resolved 
not to do, and he wished to save himself the anguish 
of meeting his father or any of his relatives, to whom 
he was tenderly attached. He therefore earnestly en- 
treated of the officer who conducted him to Nismes 
that he might not be permitted to see his father or 
auy of his relatives there ; and begged him simply to 
to say to them that he was entirely resigned to the 
will of God, and would endure his sufferings with 
firmness and constancy. 

Being brought before the Court of Nismes, he an- 
swered readily all questions concerning himself, but 
refused to compromise any of his friends. The Court 
then decided that he should* be put to death, but as 
there were a great many Protestants at Nismes, who 
would be witnesses of the martyrdom, and who could 
not fail to be influenced by it, the judges decided that 
he should be executed at Beaucaire, a Catholic town, 
four leagues from Nismes. He was at once transferred 

to the prison of that place to await his final examina- 
25 



386 



CROSS AND CROWN. 



tion and sentence. He was visited by many monks 
and other persons, who came to urge him to abjure 
and live, but all met with the same answer. One of 
his visitors was Baville, the bloodthirsty Intendant. 
He seems to fyave been moved by the calm heroism 
of the young pastor, and coming to his cell, he took 
him aside, and begged him to have pity on himself. 
He told him he would at once give him his life and 
liberty if he would recant, but would be compelled to 
put him to death if he clung to his heresy. The 
young pastor answered him as he had the monks, 
that he preferred death to life on such conditions. 

At length he was taken before his judges for his 
final examination, and the Intendant again urged him 
to accept the offer of life held out to him, for even this 
monster wished to save the young hero. 

" M. Rey," said he, " there is yet time to save your- 
self." 

" Yes, my lord," replied M. Rey, " and I will em- 
ploy for my salvation the time that remains to me." 

"It is only necessary to change," continued the In- 
tendant, " and you shall live." 

" It is indeed necessary to change," said the pastor ; 
" but it is in going from earth to heaven, where a life 
of happiness awaits me, which I shall soon possess." 

" I will re,adily grant you your life if you will 
change your religion," said Baville. 

" Do not promise me this miserable life ! " exclaimed 
the pastor ; " I am entirely weaned from it. Death is 



FUL CEAND BEY. 387 

better than life for me. If I had feared death, I 
should not have been here. God has given me a 
knowledge of His truth, and He will give me grace 
to profess it constantly unto death. For all the treas- 
ures in the world I would not renounce those which 
God has prepared for me in paradise." • 

He was then sent back to prison, but was brought 
before the Court again the next day. He was asked 
by the Intendant if he had preached. 

" Yes, my lord," was the reply. 

"Where have you preached ?" asked Baville. 

" I have preached," he answered, " in all places 
w r here I have found the assemblies of the faithful." 

" Do you not know that the king has forbidden the 
Huguenots to preach?" asked the Intendant. 

" The King of kings," replied the pastor, " had com- 
manded me to do it, and it is right to obey God rather 
than man." 

The Intendant again asked him to tell the places 
where the assemblies had been held, and to reveal the 
names of those who had attended them ; but he again 
refused to answer any questions on this subject. In 
vain the judges exerted all their ingenuity to make him 
betray his brethren. His lips were firmly closed, and 
they could extort nothing from him. He was then sent 
back to prison, and his judges proceeded to pass sentence 
upon him. He was condemned to be tortured upon the 
rack for the purpose of compelling him to reveal the 
names of those who had attended his preaching, and 



388 CROSS AND GROWN. 

then to be hanged. The sentence was then placed in 
the hands of a commissary, whose duty it was to com- 
municate it to the prisoner. 

The commissary found M. Eey in his cell engaged ins 
prayer. The heroic conduct of the young man had 
excited the interest of this official, and he was anxious 
to save him. He informed him of the purpose of his 
visit, and, before communicating to him the sentence of 
the Court, begged him once more to think of himself. 

" I have thought," replied M. Key, " and my resolu- 
tion is taken. It is no longer a question of deliberation. 
I am quite ready to die, if God has so ordained it. All 
the promises which may be made to me can never shake 
my constancy." 

The commissary gazed at him for a moment in silent 
admiration, and then read the sentence to him, his voice 
faltering with emotion as he pronounced the fatal words. 
M. Rey heard him in silence, and with an unmoved 
countenance. 

" They treat me," he said, " more mildly than my 
Saviour was treated. I had prepared myself to be 
broken on the wheel, or burnt alive." Then raising 
his eyes to heaven, he exclaimed : " I return Thee 
thanks, Lord of heaven and earth, for the many benefits 
Thou hast bestowed upon me. I thank Thee that Thou 
hast counted me worthy to suffer for Thy name, and to 
die for Thee ; and I thank Thee also that Thou hast 
called me to suffer a death so mild, after having disposed 
me to endure the most cruel death for love of Thee." 



FULCBAND BEY. 389 

At the appointed time, he was bound upon the rack, 
and the torture was applied with the utmost severity. 
The martyr bore it all unflinchingly ; not a cry nor a 
groan escaped his lips, though his poor body was almost 
wrenched asunder. His tormentors plied him incessantly 
with questions, but he would make no reply except that 
he had answered all, and had no more to say. At length, 
finding it useless to torment him further, they released 
him, and, their humanity asserting itself, exerted them- 
selves to soothe his hurts. He said to them, with a 
smile : 

" I have scarcely suffered. I believe that you have 
suffered more than I have. I protest to you, I have 
scarcely felt any pain." 

Though he had but a few hours to live, they offered 
him food, to revive his strength. He did not refuse it, 
but ate tranquilly. During his repast, he said to them : 

" Others eat to live, and I eat to die. This is the 
last repast I shall take on earth ; but in heaven there 
is a banquet prepared, to which I am invited, and angels 
will this night conduct me to it. Glorified spirits will 
soon carry me away to participate with them in the 
joys of Paradise." 

He was carried back to his cell, where he was at once 
visited by a number of monks, who prevented him from 
giving himself up to prayer, as he wished, by their argu- 
ments and persuasions. He sometimes argued with 
them, utterly confounding them, and again he would 
pay no attention to them, but would utter a fervent 



390 CROSS AND CROWN. 

prayer, or sing a favorite psalm. The monks were so 
deeply touched by the constancy of the young hero that 
they could not restrain their tears. 

In the evening the officials came to conduct him to 
the place of execution. Two monks presented them- 
selves also, and said they had come to comfort him 
in his last hours. He begged them to leave him in 
peace. 

" I have no need of you/' he said ; " I have a more 
faithful comforter within me." 

" But do you not wish that we should accompany 
you?" said one of the monks. 

" No," replied the martyr ; " I have the company of 
angels, who are about my person, and who have pro- 
mised that they will be with me to my latest breath." 

The monks would not be refused, however; and 
though they ceased to exhort him, they. walked on 
either side of him to the scaffold, and there saw how a 
martyr could die. 

The streets of the town were crowded with people, 
assembled to see the pastor go by. They beheld with 
wonder and awe the joyful countenance and triumphant 
mien of the victim of priestly tyranny. Glancing 
around, M. Rey beheld several persons of his acquaint- 
ance, who had abjured the Protestant religion. He 
greeted them kindly, but they burst into uncontrollable 
weeping. 

" Weep not for me," he said, earnestly ; " weep for 
yourselves. I shall very soon be delivered from the 



FULCRAND BEY. 39I 

sufferings of this world, but I leave you behind. Re- 
pent, and God will have mercy on you." 

They led him out of the town by the gate of Beau- 
regarde, beyond which the gallows had been erected. 
As he came in sight of it, he broke forth into a trans- 
port of joy. 

"Courage! courage!" he exclaimed, clasping his 
hands. " This is the place which I have so long de- 
sired, and for which God himself has prepared me. I 
see the heavens open to receive me, and angels prepared 
to bear me away." 

As he came nearer to the scaffold, he began to sing 
a psalm, but the officer commanding the guard com- 
pelled him to be silent.- Having reached the foot of 
the scaffold, he exclaimed : 

" 0, how favorable is this ladder to me ; it will serve 
me as a step to mount to heaven." 

Then he knelt down, and continued a long time in 
prayer, repeating aloud at intervals portions of the fifty- 
first psalm. Upon the conclusion of his prayer he rose 
to his feet, and with firmness and composure climbed 
up the ladder to the platform of the scaffold. One of 
the monks attempted to follow him, but the martyr 
waved him back. 

" I have already said," he exclaimed, " and I tell you 
again, that! have no need of your assistance. I have 
received enough from my God to enable me to take the 
last step in my career." 

Then turning to the people gathered about the scaf- 



392 CROSS AND CROWN. 

fold, and who were all Catholics, he attempted to ad- 
dress them ; but his voice was drowned in the rattle of 
the drums that were beaten to prevent his being heard. 
Perceiving that it was useless to attempt to speak, he 
delivered himself to the executioner. The rope was 
adjusted, and the next moment the lifeless body of the 
martyr was swinging between heaven and earth. The 
crowd witnessed the sad scene with deep emotion, and 
there were not wanting Roman Catholics in Beaucaire 
that night who declared with boldness that he died a 
martyr. 

Thus passed to the Kingdom of God, on the 7th of 
July, 1686, one of the purest and most gifted of the 
Huguenot martyrs. 



PART III. 

THE ENGLISH MARTYRS 



THE ENGLISH MARTYRS. 



i. 

HISTORICAL SKETCH OF THE ENGLISH 

REFORMATION. 

Introduction of Christianity into Great Britain — The early 
British Church— St. Patrick— The Church op Iona— Gregory 
the Great sends Augustine to England — Conyersion of the 
King of Kent— Designs of Rome against the -British Church 
— Resistance of the Britons — The Revenge of Rome — Estab- 
lishment of the Papal Supremacy in England— Efforts of 
the English to retain their Liberty — King John's Submission 
to the Pope— The Parliament asserts the Rights of the King 
and the People — The early Reformers — John Wycliffe — State 
of the Romish Church at this Period — Doctrines and Labors 
of Wycliffe — His Persecutions— The Bible first given to the 
People— The Romish Clergy try to take the Bible from them 
— The Gospel preached in England — Death of Wycliffe — The 
Lollards — The first Persecution in England — Cruelty of the 
Romish Clergy — Martyrdom of Lord Cobham — Other Martyrs 
— Reign of Henry VIII. — Henry's Desires induce him to assist 
the Reformers — Explanation of the Support given by Henry 
to the Reformation — Fall of Wolsey — Cromwell and Cranmer 
— The King declares himself head of the Church — The Rup- 
ture with Rome — The Effect of the Circulation of the 
Bible — Spread of the Reformation — The Bible made Free — 
Tricks of the Romanists — The Nun of Kent — Suppression of 
the Convents — Shameful Condition of the Religious Houses — 
The new Articles of Religion — The Roman Catholic Insur- 
rection — Tricks of the Priests exposed to the Pbople — The 
Pope excommunicates Henry — The Interdict — The Martyrs of 
this Reign— The Six Articles — Bishop Gardiner— His Ef- 

395 




396 CROSS AND CROWN. 

FORTS TO DESTROY QUEEN CATHARINE — MARTYRDOM OP ANNE 

Askew — Death op Henry— Edward VI. — The boy King — Pro- 
gress op the Reformation— The Work of Cranmer — Changes 
in the Church — Death of Edward— Bloody Mary — Her Char- 
acter—The Queen a Romanist— The Romish Religion restored 
—Flight op the Protestant Clergy — The Burning op John 
Rogers— The Reign of Terror begun — Martyrdoms during 
this Reign — Tyranny of the Queen and Cruelties of the 
Clergy— The People come to hate the Queen — Horrors of 
the Reign of Romanism — Martyrdom of Archbishop Cranmer — 
The Scene in St. Mary's Church — Death of the Victim — Ef- 
fect of this Martyrdom — Bonner's last Victims — Hatred of 
the Queen — Her Death — Accession of Elizabeth — The Refor- 
mation accomplished — The new Bishops — Plots of the Romanists 
— Reign of James II.— Final Failure of Romanism in England. 



D I\ T is certain that Christianity was planted in Great 
,|| Britain within three centuries after the death 
of Christ. By whom it was introduced is un- 
certain, but that it existed there we have 
abundant evidence. It is believed that many Chris- 
tians, fleeing from persecution on the Continent, took 
refuge in Britain, that many prisoners of war taken 
by the Romans were converted during their captivity, 
and that there were Christian soldiers in the Roman 
armies stationed in the island. By the end of the second 
century there were many Christian churches in Great 
Britain. They were mainly in the northern and western 
portions of England and in Scotland. " These churches 
were formed after the Eastern type — the Britons would 
have refused to receive the type of that of Rome, whose 
yoke they detested." Under the Emperor Diocletian, 
they endured a severe persecution, which drove them 
almost entirely from the south of England into the 
north and into Scotland. 



THE ENGLISH MARTYRS. 397 

In the year of our Lord 372, there was born on the 
banks of the Clyde, near the present city of Glasgow, 
of British parentage, a youth named Succat. His father, 
Calpurnius, was a deacon of the church of Bonavern, 
and his mother, Conchessa, was the sister of the famous 
Martin, Archbishop of Tours. The boy, after an event- 
ful youth, became a powerful preacher of the Gospel, 
and was the means of introducing Christianity into the 
neighboring island of Ireland. He is known in history 
as St. Patrick. 

In 449, Hengist and Horsa and their Saxon followers 
became masters of England, and the British Christians 
were obliged to seek refuse in the mountains of Wales 
and the wild moors of Northumberland and Cornwall. 
Here, and in parts of Scotland, the pure faith continued 
to exist, but the greater portion of the British dominions 
remained pagan. 

Two centuries after St. Patrick, Columba, one of the 
princes of Ireland, resolved to become a missionary, and 
accordingly crossed with several companions from Ire- 
land to Scotland, in which country he had resolved to 
preach the Word of God. He landed on the little 
island of Iona, or Icolmkill, one of the Hebrides group, 
which lies off the south-west extremity of the Isle of 
Mull, and finding there a number of British Christians, 
called Culdees, who had taken refuge in the place, fixed 
his abode among them. He passed to the mainland on 
his missionary tour, and was eminently successful in 
his preaching. The king of the Picts and many of his 



398 CROSS AND CROWN. 

people were converted, and Iona became one of the 
primitive strongholds of the Christian faith. A school 
of theology was established there, in which the Word 
of God was studied, and from which missionaries, full 
of zeal, were sent out to Britain and to the Continent. 
These zealous preachers penetrated into the Low Coun- 
tries, into Gaul, Switzerland, Germany, and even into 
Italy. " The free church of the Scots and Britons," 
says D'Aubigne, " did more for the conversion of cen- 
tral Europe than the halfrenslaved Church of Rome." 

" The sages of Iona," continues the same writer, 
" knew nothing of transubstantiation, or of the with- 
drawal of the cup in the Lord's Supper, or of auricular 
confession, or of prayers for the dead, or tapers, or in- 
cense ; they celebrated Easter on a different day from 
Rome ; synodal assemblies regulated the affairs of the 
Church, and the papal supremacy was unknown." 

During all this while the Roman Church had been 
almost imperceptibly falling away from the faith of the 
apostles, and taking to itself additions devised by man. 
Forgetting the example of the Master, who declared 
that His kingdom was not of this world, it had fairly 
entered upon its attempt to bring the whole world into 
subjection to it. Little by little the Pope had increased 
his pretensions, and little by little had his efforts been 
crowned with success. The Continent did not present 
a field wide enough for the ambition of the Pontiff, 
and it was not long before Great Britain claimed his 
attention. 



THE ENGLISH MARTYRS. 399 

In 590 Gregory I., called the Great, came to the 
Papal throne. Before his elevation to this dignity his 
compassion had been aroused by the beauty of some 
Anglo Saxon slaves, exposed for sale in Rome, and he 
had conceived an ardent desire to convert to Christi- 
anity the nation to which these captives belonged. 
When he became Pope he put this plan into execution, 
for the double purpose of converting the Saxon con- 
querors of Britain, and of extending the supremacy of 
Rome over the ancient British Church. An opportune 
occasion soon presented itself. 

Ethelbert, King of Kent, married a Christian prin- 
cess of Frankish descent. Gregory resolved to make 
this marriage the occasion of sending his missionaries 
into Britain. In order to secure the assistance of the 
two kings of the Franks, Theodoric and Theodebert, he 
pretended to regard them as the rightful sovereigns of 
Britain, and commended to them the conversion of 
their subjects. The grandmother of these kings was 
the notorious Brunehilda, whose debaucheries, crimes, 
and treacheries form a dark page in the history of her 
country. To secure her aid, Gregory warmly com- 
mended her for her good works and godly fear. 

The missionary selected by the Pope was a monk 
named Augustine, a personal friend of Gregory, and a 
man well fitted for the task confided to him. He was 
a pious man, but he mingled with this trait a vast 
amount of superstition. He was zealous and devoted, 
but he was also cunning and unscrupulous. He was a 



400 CROSS AND CROWN. 

man of unbounded ambition, and was so filled with 
spiritual pride that Gregory often exhorted him to be 
more humble. Augustine believed that the authority 
and power of the Church of Kome were to be considered 
above all other things. These acknowledged, piety 
and the other attributes of Christianity would follow. 

He landed in Britain in 597, and succeeded in per- 
suading the King of Kent to receive him and his 
companions. This accomplished, he began his preach- 
ing, and was so successful that the king and many of his 
subjects were converted. Augustine baptized ten thou- 
sand of them in one day. He established himself at 
Canterbury, and was appointed by the Pope Arch- 
bishop not only of the Saxons but also of the free 
Britons. The religion which he taught differed materi- 
ally from that which the British Church had received 
from its founders. Augustine brought with him many 
of the errors of Rome, such as purgatory for instance, 
of which the Britons had never heard before. 

As soon as he had securely established himself in 
England, Augustine commenced to put into execution 
the papal plan for the subjugation of the British 
Church. His first effort was directed against the 
Church of Bangor, in North Wales. His demand was : 
" Acknowledge the authority of the Bishop of Rome." 
Dionoth, the bishop of the Welsh Church, replied 
simply : " We desire to love all men ; and what we do 
for you we will do for him also whom ye call the Pope. 
But he is not entitled to call himself the father of 



THE ENGLISH MARTYRS. 401 

fathers ; and the only submission which we can render 
him is that which we owe to every Chiristian." 

Augustine, undismayed by this check, convoked, in 
601, a general assembly of the British and Saxon 
bishops. The meeting was held under an oak tree, 
near Wigornia. Augustine here repeated his demands. 
Dionoth again refused with firmness to make the 
required submission. He was sustained by another 
Briton, who protested against the presumption of the 
Romans, who claimed for their consecration a virtue 
which they denied to that of Iona or the Asiatic 
churches. A third declared, " The Britons cannot 
submit either to the haughtiness of the Romans or the 
tyranny of the Saxons." Augustine exerted all his 
powers of persuasion and exhausted his prayers and 
censures, but the Britons were firm. The Scotch were 
particularly inflexible, and the first Papal Legate was 
obliged to acknowledge himself beaten. He tried once 
again, however, but was told by the British bishops 
that they acknowledged no Master but Christ. Fin- 
ally, Augustine told them haughtily : " If you will 
not receive brethren who bring you peace, you shall 
receive enemies who will bring you war. If you will 
not unite with us in showing the Saxons the way of 
life, you shall receive from them the stroke of death." ' 
Thus early was the true policy of Rome declared in 
England. 

" Shortly after the death of Augustine, Edelfrid, 
one of the Anglo-Saxon kings who was still a heathen, 

26 



402 CROSS A ND CR WN. 

collected a numerous army and advanced toward 
Bangor, the centre of British Christianity. Alarm 
spread through those feeble churches. They wept and 
prayed. The sword of Edelfrid drew nearer. The 
magnitude of the danger seemed to recall the Britons 
to their pristine piety ; not to men, but to the Lord 
himself will they turn their thoughts. Twelve hun- 
dred and fifty servants of the living God,, calling to 
mind what are the arms of Christian warfare, after 
preparing themselves by fasting, met together in a 
retired spot to send up their prayers to God. A British 
chief, named Brocmail, moved by tender compassion, 
stationed himself near them with a few soldiers ; but 
the cruel Edelfrid, observing from a distance this band 
of kneeling Christians, demanded : ' Who are these 
people, and what are they doing ? ' On being informed, 
he added : ' They are fighting, then, against us, 
although unarmed;' and immediately he ordered his 
soldiers to fall upon the prostrate crowd. Twelve hun- 
dred of them were slain. They prayed and they died. 
The Saxons forthwith proceeded to Bangor, the chief 
seat of Christian learning, and razed it to the ground. 
Romanism was triumphant in England. The news of 
these massacres filled the country with tveeping and 
great mourning ; but the priests of Romish consecra- 
tion (and the venerable Bede shared their sentiments) 
beheld in this cruel slaughter the accomplishment of 
the prophecy of the ' holy pontiff' Augustine ; and a 
national tradition among the Welsh for many ages 



THE ENGLISH MARTYRS. 403 

pointed to him as the instigator of this cowardly 
butchery. Thus did Rome loose the savage Pagan 
against the primitive Church of Britain, and fastened 
it, all dripping with blood, to her triumphal car.".* 

We cannot here follow the long and determined 
struggle between Rome and the British Church, or 
describe the means by which the former triumphed. 
What has been written is sufficient to show that Great 
Britain did not owe its christianization to Rome, and 
that the British Church submitted to the foreign priest- 
hood unwillingly, and only when it could no longer 
defend itself against the papal aggression. England 
never rested entirely easy under the supremacy of 
Rome. At almost every period of her history we see 
some bold spirit asserting the independence of his 
country against the ecclesiastical tyranny which over- 
shadowed it. Nor did Rome allow her yoke to rest 
lightly upon the English. In no country was the rep- 
resentative of the Pope as proud and haughty as in 
this island, and nowhere did he encounter such a de- 
termined opposition as here. When Innocent III. laid 
the kingdom under an interdict in the reign of King 
John, he roused a spirit in the English people which 
never entirely died out. The whole nation resented 
the pusillanimous conduct of the king in his final sur- 
render to the Pope, and rightly attributed all the 



* D^AubignPs History of the Reformation, p. 566. Edition pub- 
lished by the Keligious Tract Society of London. 



404 CROSS AND CROWN. 

horrors of the bloody wars between the king and the 
barons to the meddling of Rome. When the news of 
the signing of the famous Magna Charta by King John 
reached Rome, Innocent declared with an oath that 
the Great Charter should not stand. The Pope delibe- 
rately arrayed himself against this foundation of 
modern liberty, and set his successors an example 
which they diligently followed in all subsequent times. 
He declared the Charter null, and forbade the king to 
observe it. He ordered the barons to apologize to the 
king for forcing him to sign the Charter, and to send a 
deputation to Rome to learn from the Pope himself 
what the government of England should be. The 
spirit of free England took fire. "Is it the Pope's 
business to regulate temporal matters ? " exclaimed the 
indignant barons. " By what right do vile usurers 
and foul Simoniacs domineer over our country, and 
excommunicate the whole world ? " The barons swore 
to maintain the Charter, and war ensued. The king, 
sustained by the Romish clergy, carried fire and 
slaughter throughout the realm, and finally triumphed. 
The triumph of Rome was brief, however. The king 
died, and his successors proved anything but pliant 
vassals of the Pope. 

The barons, though beaten, had secured the liberties 
of England by their Great Charter. During this reign 
England also lost her foreign possessions, and from that 
time gave more attention to her own domestic affairs 
than she had ever done before. The Norman and 



TEE ENGLISH MARTYRS. 405 

Saxon races - , laying aside by degrees their old hostility, 
became gradually one people. The language took a 
definite shape, institutions of learning were founded, 
the laws became more exact and equitable, the founda- 
tion of the free institutions of the country was laid, 
and England began that wonderful career of greatness 
.and power which forms so important a portion of 
European history. Her armies were successful on the 
Continent, and her ships began to appear in every sea. 
The spirit of independence grew with the power and 
strength of the kingdom. The English were especially 
jealous of Papal interference, never having forgotten 
or forgiven the events of the Barons' War. The com- 
mon law was the great shield of the nation, and upon 
this they received all the blows of Rome. The Pope, 
fearing the consequences of this independence, labored 
actively to bring the English into subjection to the 
Holy See, but the free islanders would not tolerate his 
interference in the affairs of their kingdom. As early 
as the beginning of the fourteenth century, an Eng- 
lishman having brought to London a bull of the Pope, 
excommunicating certain persons, was tried and con- 
victed of treason — his treason consisting of being in- 
strumental in inflicting upon one of the king's subjects 
a punishment not warranted by the common law. In 
1350, Parliament enacted the Statute of Pro visors, 
which made void every ecclesiastical appointment 
contrary to the rights of the king, the chapters, or the 
patrons. This wise statute effectually prevented the 



406 CROSS AND CROWN. 

Pope from filling the ecclesiastical dignities of the land 
with foreigners and creatures entirely subservient to 
him. The Pope was greatly alarmed at this step, but 
wisely acquiesced in it, hoping to find means to keep 
the English clergy faithful to Rome. 

It was the custom in all Catholic countries to appeal 
from the judgment of civil and ecclesiastical tribunals 
to the Pope. During the reign of Edward III. and 
Richard II. stringent laws, known as the Statute of 
Praemunire, were passed. By these laws all appeals 
from the tribunals of England to the court of Rome, 
all bulls from the Pope, all excommunications and all 
acts which claimed a supremacy over the king and the 
tribunals of England, were forbidden. All persons 
who should bring such documents into the realm, 
or receive or publish them were to be punished as 
traitors to their sovereign. England thus emphatically 
declared that she was her own mistress, and the firm 
protector of her people's liberties. The Pope was 
much incensed by this Act, and bitterly denounced it. 

While the king and Parliament thus resisted the 
visible tyranny of Rome, there were not wanting from 
time to time, evidences that the nation was weary of 
the spiritual tyranny of the Pope. Such men as Gros- 
tete, Sewal, Bradwardine, and others, though they 
appeared at periods remote from each other, and ac- 
complished nothing definite, furnish indisputable proof 
that the Anglican Church was not satisfied with the 
faith of Rome, and that it contained, even at this early 



.1 



THE ENGLISH MARTYRS. 407 

period, the seeds that were one day to ripen into the 
Reformation. This feeling of discontent deepened, and 
took a very definite shape under WyclifFe, the disciple 
of Bradwardine. 

John WyclifFe was born in a village of Yorkshire, in 
1324, and was trained to the priesthood. He was 
educated at Oxford, and was a student of Merton 
College, where he attended the lectures of Bradwar- 
dine. A terrible plague which broke out in England 
in 1348, having roused him to a sense of his spiritual 
condition, he began the systematic and diligent study 
of the Bible. He not only drew great comfort from 
the knowledge which he v thus obtained of the Scrip- 
tures, but his eyes were opened by degrees to the 
errors of Rome, and he came to have a clearer concep- 
tion of the true faith of our Saviour Christ than was 
held by any man in England at that day. He was 
not willing to keep this precious knowledge to himself, 
but resolved to make it known to others that they 
might share in the comfort it had brought to him. He 
was aware of the opposition he would encounter from 
the clergy whose system he was about to attack, and 
he began with caution. In 1361 he was made warden 
of Balliol and in 1365 warden of Canterbury College 
also. He was a man of profound learning, a popular 
teacher, and the most eloquent orator of his day. He 
was master of the theology of the Church, and as well 
versed in the truths of the Holy Scriptures. He 
became bolder after succeeding to the dignities men- 



408 CROSS AND CROWN. 

tioned, publicly declared that the clergy had banished 
the Scriptures, and demanded that the Word of God 
should once more be set up as the chief authority in 
the Church. He supported his demand by eloquent 
and forcible sermons, and soon drew to himself a num- 
ber of followers. 

He was now forty years old, and was about to take 
his stand as the champion of the liberties of his coun- 
try. Before considering this part of his career, it will 
be necessary to explain the actual state of the Romish 
religion in England at this period. 

As upon the continent, the Church of Rome had 
become very corrupt in England. It had departed 
so far from the standard of the Apostles that it could 
no longer base its claims upon the Scriptures alone. 
To sustain it in its pretensions it set up its traditions, 
which were mainly of its own invention-, and taught 
that these were of equal authority with the Word of 
God. The Scriptures being in the Latin tongue, were 
utterly unknown to the people, who had thus no oppor- 
tunity of testing the claims of Rome, and the Church 
endeavored to keep the Bible from those who could read 
it, lest they should detect and rebel against its impos- 
tures. The Saviour was declared to be only one of the 
mediators between God and man, and a host of saints 
was placed almost on an equality with him, and the 
faithful were commanded to address their prayers to 
those who had been mere men like themselves. The 
relics of sacred articles and holy persons were made 



THE ENGLISH MARTYRS. s 409 

objects of adoration. " The poor fragments of mor- 
tality, a skull, a bone, or the fragment of a bone, a 
tooth, or a tongue, were either mounted or set, accord- 
ing to the size, in gold or silver, deposited in costliest 
shrines of the finest workmanship, and enriched with 
the most precious gems. Churches soon began to vie 
with each other in the number and variety of these 
imaginary treasures, which were sources of real wealth 
to their possessors. The instruments of. our Lord's 
crucifixion were shown (the spear and the cross hav- 
ing, so it was pretended, been miraculously discovered), 
the clothes wherein he was wrapt in infancy, the man- 
ger in which he was laid, the vessels in which he con- 
verted water into wine at the marriage feast, the bread 
which he brake at the last supper, his vesture for 
which the soldiers cast lots. Such was the impudence 
of Romish fraud, that portions were produced of the 
burning bush, of the manna which fell in the wilder- 
ness, of Moses' rod and Samson's honey-comb, of 
Tobit's fish, of the blessed Virgin's milk, and of our 
Saviour's blood. Enormous prices were paid by sove- 
reigns for such relics ; it was deemed excusable not to 
covet merely, but to steal them ; and if the thieves were 
sometimes miraculously punished, they were quite as 
often enabled by miracle to effect the pious robbery, and 
bring the prize in triumph to the church for which it 
was designed. In the rivalry of deceit which the desire 
for gain occasioned, it often happened that the head of 
the same saint was shown in several places, each church 



410 CROSS AND CROWN. 

insisting that its own was genuine, and all appealing 
to miracles as the test 

". The monks and clergy promoted every fantastic 
theory, and every vulgar superstition, that could be 
made gainful to themselves; and devised arguments 
for them, which they maintained with all the subtlety 
of scholastic logic. Having thus introduced a polythe- 
ism little less gross than that of the heathens, and an 
actual idolatry, they hung about their altars (as had 
also been the custom in heathen temples) pictures 
recording marvellous deliverances, and waxen models 
of diseased or injured parts, which had been healed by 
the saint to whose honor they were suspended. Cases 
enough were afforded by chance and credulity, as well 
as by impostors of a lower rank ; and the persons by 
whom this practice was encouraged, were neither scru- 
pulous on the score of decency, nor of truth. Church 
vied with church, and convent with convent, in the 
reputation of their wonder-working images, some of 
which were pretended to have been made without 
hands, and some to have descended from Heaven. . . . 

" While the monastic orders contended with each 
other in • exaggerating the fame of their deified patri- 
archs, each claimed the Virgin Mary for its especial 
patroness. Some peculiar favor she had bestowed upon 
each. She had appointed their rule of life, or devised 
the pattern of their habit; or enjoined them some new 
practice of devotion, or granted them some singular 
privilege. She had espoused their founder with a ring, 



THE ENGLISH MARTYRS. 411 

or fed him like a babe at her breast ! (it is fitting and 
necessary that this abominable system of imposture 
should be displayed!) — and each of the popular orders 
had been assured by revelation, that the place in 
Heaven for its departed members was under her skirts. 
AH, therefore, united in elevating her to the highest 
rank in the mythology of the Romish Church, for so 
in strict truth must this enormous system of fable be 
designated. They traced her in types throughout the 
Old Testament; she was the tree of life; the ladder 
which Jacob had seen leading from Heaven to earth ; 
the ever-burning bush ; the ark of the covenant ; the 
rod which brought forth buds and blossoms and pro- 
duced fruit ; the fleece upon which alone the dew of 
heaven descended. Before all creatures and all ages, 
she was conceived in the Eternal Mind ; and when the 
time appointed for her mortal manifestation was come, 
she of all the human kind alone was produced without 
the taint of human frailty. And though, indeed, being 
subject to death, she paid the common tribute of mor- 
tality, — yet, having been born without sin, she expired 
without suffering, and her most holy body, too pure a 
thing to see corruption, was translated immediately to 
Heaven, there to be glorified. ' This had been pre- 
sumed, because, had her remains existed upon earth, 
it was not to be believed but that so great a treasure 
would have been revealed to some or other of so many 
saints, who were worthy to have been made the means 
of enriching mankind by the discovery ; and that all 



412 CROSS AND CROWN. 

doubt might be removed, the fact was stated by the 
Virgin herself to Saint Antonio. Her image was to 
be found in every church throughout Christendom; 
and she was worshipped under innumerable appella- 
tions — devotees believing that the one which they 
particularly affected was that to which the object of 
their adoration most willingly inclined her ear 

" By such representations and fables, the belief of 
the people became so entirely corrupted, that Christ, 
instead of being regarded as our Mediator and Re- 
deemer, appeared to them in the character of a jealous 
God, whom it behoved them to propitiate through the 
mediation of his Virgin Mother, for through her alone 

could mercy and salvation be obtained Nor was 

it in idolatry, polytheism, and creature worship alone, 
that the resemblance was apparent between the reli- 
gion of Pagan and Papal Rome. The priests of the 
Roman Church had gradually fallen into many of the 
rites and ceremonies of their heathen predecessors, 
profiting in some cases by what was useful, in others, 
not improperly conforming to what was innocent, but 
in too many points culpably imitating pernicious and 
abominable usages 

" It was deemed meritorious to disfigure the body by 
neglect and filth, to extenuate it by fasting and watch- 
fulness, to lacerate it with stripes, and to fret the 
wounds with cilices of horse-hair. Linen was pro- 
scribed among the monastic orders; and the use of 
the warm bath, which, being not less conducive to 



THE ENGLISH MARTYRS. 413 

health than to cleanliness, had become general in all 
the Roman provinces, ceased throughout Christendom, 
because, according to the morality of the monastic 
school, cleanliness itself was a luxury, and to procure 
it by pleasurable means, was a positive sin. There 
were some saints who never washed themselves, and 
made it a point of conscience never to disturb the 
vermin, who were the proper accompaniments of such 
sanctity ; in as far as they occasioned pain while bur- 
rowing or at pasture, they were increasing the stock 
of the aspirant's merits, that treasure which he was 
desirous of laying up in Heaven ; and he thought 
it unjust to deprive his little progeny of their pres- 
ent paradise, seeing they had none other to expect. 
The act of eating they made an exercise of penance, 
by mingling what was most nauseous with their food; 
and it would literally sicken the reader, were the vic- 
tories here to be related which they achieved over the 
reluctant stomach, and which, with other details of 
sanctimonious nastiness, are recorded in innumerable 
Catholic books, for edification and example. They 
bound chains around the body, which ate into the 
flesh, or fastened graters upon the breast and back ; 
or girded themselves with bandages of bristles inter- 
mixed with points of wire. Cases of horrid self- 
mutilation were sometimes discovered ; and many 
perished by a painful and lingering suicide, believing 
that, in the torments which they inflicted upon them- 
selves they were offering an acceptable sacrifice to 



414 CROSS AND CROWN. 

their Creator. Some became famous for the number 
of their daily genuflections ; others for immersing 
themselves to the neck in cold water during winter, 
while they recited the Psalter. The English Saint, 
Simon Stock, obtained his name and saintship for 

passing many years in a hollow tree 

"There prevailed an opinion, industriously promoted 
by the priesthood, which was excellently adapted to 
this purpose. Heroic piety, such as that of the saints, 
was not indispensable for salvation ; the degree of 
faith and good works, without which a soul could not 
be saved, must be at a standard which all mankind 
can reach. This was not to be denied. Here then was 
a large and accumulating fund of good works, which, 
though supererogatory in the saints, were nevertheless 
not to be lost. But, indeed, if strictly considered, all 
human merits were in this predicament. Atonement 
having once been made for all, good works, in those 
who entitled themselves to the benefit of the covenant, 
were needful only as the evidences and fruits of a sav- 
ing faith. There was, however, some use for them 
The redemption which had been purchased for fallen 
man was from eternal punishment only ; sin was not, 
therefore, to go unpunished, even in repentant sinners 
who had confessed and received absolution. The souls 
of baptized children, it was held, passed immediately to 
Heaven ; but for all others, except the few who at- 
tained to eminent holiness in their lives, Purgatory 
was prepared ; a place, according to the popular belief, 



THE ENGLISH MARTYRS. 415 

so near the region of everlasting torments, though 
separated from it, that the same fire pervaded both ; 
acting indeed to a different end and in different de- 
grees, but even in its mildest effect, inflicting suffer- 
ings more intense than heart could think of, or tongue 
express, and enduring for a length of time which was 
left fearfully indefinite. Happily for mankind, the 
authority of the Pope extended over this dreadful 
place. The works of supererogation were at his dis- 
posal, and this treasury was inexhaustible, because it 
contained an immeasurable and infinite store derived 
from the atonement. One drop of the Redeemer's 
blood being sufficient to redeem the whole race, the 
rest which had been shed during the passion was given 
as a legacy, to be applied in mitigation of Purgatory, as 
the Popes in their wisdom might think fit. So they in 
their infallibility declared, and so the people believed. 
The Popes were liberal of this treasure. If they 
wished to promote a new practice of devotion, or 
encourage a particular shrine, they granted to those 
who should perform the one, or visit the other, an in- 
dulgence, that is, a dispensation for so many years of 
Purgatory ; sometimes for shorter terms, but often by 
centuries or thousands of years, and in many cases the 
indulgence was plenary— a toll ticket entitling the soul 
to pass scot-free. 

"All persons, however, could not perform pilgrim- 
ages; and even the accommodating device of the 
Church, which promised large indulgences for say- 



416 CROSS AND CROWN. 

ing certain prayers before the engraved portrait of 
a miraculous image, was liable, in numerous instances, 
to, be frustrated. The picture might not find its way 
to remote places; the opportunity of acquiring it might 
be neglected, or it might remain in the possession of 
its unthinking owner, a forgotten thing. The Romish 
Church, in its infinite benevolence, considered this; 
and therefore sold indulgences, making the act of pur- 
chasing them, and thus contributing to its wants, a 
merit of itself sufficient to deserve so inestimable a 
reward. It was taught, also, that merits were trans- 
ferable by gift or purchase : under this persuasion, 
large endowments were bestowed upon convents, on 
condition that the donor should partake in the merits 
of the community; and few persons who had any 
property at their own disposal, went out of the world 
without bequeathing some of it to the clergy, for say- 
ing masses, in number proportioned to the amount 
of the bequest, for the benefit of their souls. The 
wealthy founded chantries, in which service was to 
be performed, forever, to this end. Thus were men 
taught to put their trust in riches ; their wealth being 
thus invested, became available to them beyond the 
grave ; and in whatever sins they indulged, provided 
they went through the proper forms, and obtained a 
discharge, they might purchase a free passage through 
Purgatory, or, at least, an abbreviation of the term, 
and a mitigation of the torments while they lasted. 
How severe these torments were to be might in some 



THE ENGLISH MARTYRS. 417 

degree be estimated by the scale appointed for those 
who were willing to commute, at a certain rate, while 
they were alive. The set-off for a single year was 
fixed at the recitation of thirty psalms, with an accom- 
paniment of one hundred stripes to each; the whole 
psalter, with its accompaniment of fifteen thousand, 
availing only to redeem five years. The chronicles 
of the Middle Ages are filled with horrible legends, 
invented to promote a superstition so profitable to the 
priests; and that it might be the more deeply im- 
pressed upon the people, the representations of souls 
weltering in fire were exposed in churches, and in 
streets, and by the wayside ; fraternities were estab- 
lished to beg for them; and to give money for their 
use is a part of the penance which is usually, at this 
day, appointed by the Confessor. 

" But Purgatory was not the only invisible world 
over which the authority of the Church extended ; foir 
to the Pope, as to the representative of Saint Peter, it 
was pretended that the keys of Heaven and Hell were 
given ; a portion of this power was delegated to every 
priest, and they inculcated that the soul which de- 
parted without confession and absolution, bore with 
it the weight of its deadly sins to sink it to perdition, 
The clergy so clearly perceived the influence which 
they derived from the practice of confession, that they 
insisted upon it as a peremptory duty, imperative upon 
all persons; and according to the usual craft, they pro- 
pagated a thousand tales of ghosts who had visited the 
27 



418 CROSS AND CROWN. 

earth to reveal their horrible doom for having left 
it unperformed. Of all the practices of the Romish 
Church, this is the one which has proved most inju- 
rious; and if it be regarded in connexion with the 
celibacy of the clergy, the cause will be apparent why 
the state of morals is generally so much more corrupt 
in Catholic than in Protestant countries. The uses of 
conscience were at an end when it was delivered to the 
keeping of a confessor. Actions then^ instead of being 
tried by the eternal standard of right and wrong, on 
which the unsophisticated heart unerringly pronounces, 
were judged by the rules of a pernicious casuistry, the 
intent of which was to make men satisfied with them- 
selves upon the cheapest terms. The inevitable effect 
was, that the fear of human laws became the only re- 
straint upon evil propensities, when men were taught 
to believe that the account with Divine Justice might 
be easily settled. Tables were actually set forth by 
authority, in which the rate of absolution for any 
imaginable crime was fixed, and the most atrocious 
might be committed with spiritual impunity for a few 
shillings. The foulest murderer and parricide, if he 
escaped the hangman, might, at this price, set his con- 
science at ease concerning all further consequences. 

" If the boundless credulity of mankind be a mourn- 
ful subject for consideration, as in truth it is,, it is yet 
more mournful to observe the profligate wickedness 
with which that credulity has been abused. The 
'Church of Rome appears to have delighted in insult- 



THE ENGLISH MARTYRS. ■ 419 

ing as well as in abusing it, and to have pleased itself 
with discovering how far it was possible to subdue and 
degrade the human intellect. If further proof than 
has already appeared were needful, it would .be found 
in the prodigious doctrine of Transubstantiation. This 
astonishing doctrine arose from taking figurative words 
in a literal sense; and the Romanists do not shrink 
from the direct inference, that if their interpretation be 
just, Christ took his own body in his own hands, and 
offered it to his disciples. According to the Church of 
Rome, when the words of consecration have been pro- 
nounced, the bread becomes that same actual body of 
flesh and blood in which our Lord and Saviour suffered 
upon the cross; remaining bread to the sight, touch, 
and taste, yet ceasing to be so, — and into how many 
parts soever the bread may be broken, the whole entire 
body is contained in every part. 

"Of all the corruptions of Christianity, there was 
none which the Popes so long hesitated to sanction as 
this. When the question was brought before Hilde- 
brand, he not only inclined to the opinion of Ber- 
enger, by whom it was opposed, but pretended to con- 
sult the Virgin Mary, and then declared that she had 
pronounced against it. Nevertheless, it prevailed, and 
W 7 as finally declared by Innocent III., at the fourth 
Lateran Council, to be a tenet necessary to salvation. 
Strange as it may appear, the doctrine had become 
popular, — with the people, for its very extravagance, — 
with the clergy, because they grounded upon it their 



420 CROSS AND CROWN. 

loftiest pretensions. For if there were in the sacra- 
ment this actual and entire sole presence, which thej 
denoted by the term of Transubstantiation, it followed 
that divine worship was something more than a ser- 
vice of prayer and thanksgiving; an actual sacrifice 
was performed in it, wherein they affirmed the Saviour 
was again offered up, in the same body which had suf- 
fered on the cross, by their hands. The priest, when 
he performed this stupendous function of his ministry, 
had before his eyes, and held in his hands, the Maker 
of Heaven and Earth; and the inference which they 
deduced from so blasphemous an assumption, was, that 
the clergy were not to be subject to any secular autho- 
rity, seeing that they could create God their Creator ! 
Let it not be supposed that the statement is in the 
slightest part exaggerated, it is delivered faithfully in 
their own words. 

" If such then were the power of the clergy, even of 
the meanest priest, what must be attributed to their 
earthly head, the successor of St. Peter? They claimed 
for him a plenitude of power ; and he exercised it over 
the Princes of Christendom in its fullest meaning. Ac- 
cording to the canons, the Pope is as far above all 
kings, as the sun is greater than the moon. He was 
King of kings and Lord of lords, though he sub- 
scribed himself the servant of servants. His power 
it was which was intended, when it was said to the 
Prophet Jeremiah, ' Behold, I have this day set thee 
over the nations and kingdoms, to root out, and to 



THE ENGLISH MARTYRS. 421 

pull down, and to destroy, and to throw down, 
to build and to plant.' It was an incomprehensible 
and infinite power, because ' great is the Lord, and 
great is His power, and of His greatness there is no 
end.' The immediate and sole rule of the whole world 
belonged to him by natural, moral, and divine right; 
all authority depending upon him. As supreme king, 
he might impose taxes upon all Christians; and the 
Popes declared that it was to be held as a point neces- 
sary to salvation, that every human creature is subject 
to the Roman Pontiff. That he might lawfully depose 
kings was held to be so certain a doctrine, that it could 
only be denied by madmen or through the instigation 
of the Devil ; it was more pernicious and intolerable to 
deny it, than to err concerning the sacraments. And, 
indeed, God would not sufficiently have provided for 
the preservation of His Church, and the safety of souls, 
if He had not appointed this power of depriving or 
restraining apostate princes. All nations and king- 
doms were under the Pope's jurisdiction, for to him 
God had delivered over the power and the dominion in 
Heaven and Earth. Nay, he might take away king- 
doms and empires, with or without cause, and give 
them to whom he pleased, though the sovereign, whom 
he should depose, were in every respect not merely 
blameless, but meritorious; it was reason enough for 
the change that the Pope deemed it convenient. The 
spouse of the Church was Vice-God; men were com- 
manded to bow at his name, as at the name of Christ; 



422 CROSS AND CROWN. 

the proudest sovereigns waited upon him like menials, 
led his horse by the bridle, and held his stirrup while 
he alighted ; and there were ambassadors who prostrated 
themselves before him, saying, thou, that takest away 
the sins of the world, have mercy upon us ! 

"The advocates of the Papal power proclaimed, 
that any secular laws which might be passed against 
a decree of the Roman Pontiff, were in themselves null 
and void ; that all pontificial decrees ought forever to 
be observed by all men, like the Word of God, to be 
received as if they came from the mouth of Saint Peter 
himself, and held like canonical Scripture. Neither 
the Catholic faith, nor the four Evangelists, could avail 
those who rejected them, this being a sin which was 
never to be remitted. Christ had bestowed upon the 
Pope, when he spake as such, the same infallibility 
which resided in himself. And were he utterly to 
neglect his duty, and by his misconduct drag down 
innumerable souls to Hell with him, there to be eter- 
nally tormented, no mortal man might presume to 
reprove him for his faults. Nor was it possible that 
he should be amenable to any secular power, for he had 
been called God bv Constantine, and God was not to 
be judged by man; under God, the salvation of all the 
faithful depended on him, and the commentators even 
gave him the blasphemous appellation of our Lord God 
the Pope ! It was disputed in the schools whether he 
could not abrogate that which the Apostles had en- 
joined, determine an opinion contrary to theirs, and 



THE ENGLISH MARTYRS. 423 

add a new article to the creed; whether he did not, 
as God, participate both natures with Christ; and 
whether he was not more merciful than Christ, inas- 
much as he delivered souls from the pains of purgatory, 
whereas we did not read that this had ever been done 
by our Saviour. Lastly, it was affirmed that he might do 
things unlawful, and thus could do more than God !"* 

This was the Church and this the religion of which 
England was growing weary, and for which John 
WyclhTe failed to find a warrant in the Holy Bible. 
He found it impossible either as an honest man, as 
a scholar, as an original thinker, or a patriot, to sus- 
tain such monstrous pretensions. 

The kingdom, at this time, was full of mendicant 
friars and nuns, who were continually robbing the 
people of their goods and money by threats and 
promises. The people complained bitterly that the 
monks and priests were eating them away u like a 
cancer," and prayed for relief. Some idea of this ex- 
tortion may be formed when we state that during the 
reign of Henry III., Rome robbed England of a sum 
more than three times as large as the total revenue of 
the king. The clergy were actually seeking to mon- 
opolize the wealth of the land % and the people were 
alarmed. At this critical period the Pope, Urban V., 
commanded Edward III. to recognize him as legiti- 

* The Book of the Church. By Robert Southey, LL. D. Chapter x. 
I have quoted almost the whole chapter because of the value and. 
conciseness of the statements contained in ;t. 



424 CROSS AND CROWN. 

mate sovereign of England, and to pay as feudal tribute 
the annual rent of one thousand marks. In case of 
refusal, the king was commanded to appear at Rome 
to answer for his offence. The Pope based his demand 
upon the surrender of King John to Innocent III. . He 
had mistaken the character of Edward, and the temper 
of the English people. The king indignantly refused 
to comply with the demand, and the nation sustained 
him in this refusal. Wycliffe, who at this time had 
been ejected from his post as Warden of Canterbury 
College, in consequence of his opposition to the errors 
of Rome, took up the national cause, and defended it 
with such vigor that he won the royal favor, and was 
rewarded with a professorship of divinity at Oxford, 
and made a chaplain to the king. Parliament declared 
that John in promising fealty and tribute to Rome had 
violated his coronation oath, and therefore could not 
bind his successors, and declared that should the Pope 
decide to proceed to extreme measures against Edward, 
in consequence of his refusal, it would be the duty and 
pleasure of the whole realm to support the king in defend- 
ing the independence of England. The debates in the 
House of Lords on this occasion are deeply interesting, 
as they show not only^ the advance which England had 
made towards religious freedom, but also the effect of 
Wycliffe's views upon the most powerful class of his 
■countrymen. The following is the substance of the 
views advanced by the Lords : " Feudal tribute is due 
only to him who can grant feudal protection in return. 



THE ENGLISH MARTYRS. 425 

Now, how can the Pope wage war to protect his fiefs ? 
... Is it as a vassal of the crown, or as a feudal supe- 
rior, that the Pope demands a part of our property ? 
Urban V. will not accept the first of these titles. . . . 
Well and good, but the English people will not ac- 
knowledge the second. . . . Why was this tribute ori- 
ginally granted ? To pay the Pope for absolving John. 
. . . His demand then is mere simony, a kind of cleri- 
cal swindling, which the Lords spiritual and temporal 
should indignantly oppose. . . . England belongs not 
to the Pope. The Pope is but a man, subject to sin ; 
but Christ is the Lord of lords, and this kingdom is 
held directly and solely of Christ alone." 

Thus far, however, Wycliffe's opposition to the 
Pope had been political, and in defence of the English 
Constitution. He had not yet begun to preach those 
doctrines for which he is famous. The Pope found it 
impossible to sustain his temporal pretensions in Eng- 
land, and consequently abandoned them. He was very 
anxious, however, to retain his spiritual power, and 
exerted himself to procure the repeal of the statutes of 
Praemunire and Provisors. A conference was appointed 
to be held at Bruges, for the purpose of arranging the 
differences between the Pope and the king, and Wy- 
cliffe was appointed one. of the English Commissioners. 
The conference met in April, 1374, and in 1375 came 
to an agreement by which the king promised to repeal 
the penalties denounced against the papal agents, and 
the Pope bound himself to confirm the king's nomina- 



426 CROSS AND CROWN. 

tions to ecclesiastical offices. This compromise greatly 
displeased the nation, and it was openly declared in 
Parliament that, " The clerks sent from Rome are more 
dangerous for the kingdom than Jews or Saracens; 
every papal agent residing in England, and every 
Englishman living at the Court of Rome should be 
punished with death." 

After his return Wycliffe was made Rector of Lut- 
terworth. He also retained his professorship in the 
university. During his residence abroad, he had seen 
much to open his eyes with regard to the actual con- 
dition of the Papacy. He also continued his study of 
the Scriptures, and it was not long before his opinions 
underwent the great and radical change which pre- 
pared him for the chief work of his life. He began 
to teach from his chair at Oxford, and his pulpit at 
Lutterworth that the Pope was an impostor, that he* 
might be lawfully reprimanded for his errors by his 
laymen, and that the "Gospel is the only source of 
religion." 

These bold doctrines gave great offence to the clergy. 
Courtenay, son of the Earl of Devonshire, and Bishop 
of London, a stern but honest priest, resolved to call 
"Wycliffe to account for such utterances. Accordingly 
he summoned the Reformer to appear before the Con- 
vocation assembled at St. Paul's Cathedral to answer to 
the charge of heresy. On the 19th of February, 1377, 
Wycliffe appeared at St. Paul's in obedience to this 
summons. He was accompanied by his patron, John 



THE ENGLISH MARTYRS. 427 

of Gaunt, Duke of Lancaster, and actual ruler of Eng- 
land, and Lord Percy, Earl Marshal of England, who 
came to defend him from the anger of the bishops. 
Before the examination could be begun, an altercation 
ensued between Lancaster and Courtenay. The assem- 
bly broke up in a tumult, and it was with difficulty 
that the duke and the earl escaped violence at the 
hands of the adherents of Courtenay. Serious disturb- 
ances followed in London. Courtenay exerted himself 
with success to restore peace in the city, and dismissed 
WyclifFe with a warning not to preach his doctrines 
again. 

The people of the kingdom now took up the cause 
of the Reformer : " If he is guilty," said they, " why is 
he not punished ? If he is innocent, why is he ordered 
to be silent ? If he is the weakest in power, he is the 
strongest in truth." As for WyclifFe, so far from obey- 
ing the command of the bishops, he became more ener- 
getic in his preaching. He denied that the Pope was 
the head of the Church — Christ, alone, he said, was its 
head. A man could not be excommunicated, unless he 
by his own sins had cut himself off from the covenant. 

The Pope himself now took tfp his cause. Pie wrote 
to the king, the Archbishop of Canterbury, and the 
University of Oxford, denouncing WyclifFe as a heretic, 
and ordering them to proceed against him as a common 
thief. The archbishop, alone, responded to the de- 
mand of the Pope, and cited WyclifFe to appear before 
the Convocation at Lambeth Palace. WyclifFe obeyed 



428 CROSS AND CROWN. 

the summons, and on the appointed day appeared 
alone at Lambeth. The action of the primate had 
excited great indignation in England, The people 
declared that "the Pope's briefs ought to have no 
effect in the realm without the king's consent. Every 
man is master in his own house." Kichard II., a 
child of eleven years, had just ascended the throne, 
and the partisans of Rome hoped to be able to carry 
out their plans without opposition from the Court ; but 
the spirit of Edward III. had not departed from Eng- 
land, and the convocation had hardly begun its sitting 
before Sir Louis Clifford entered with orders from the 
queen-mother that no proceeding should be taken 
against Wycliffe. The bishops were obliged to yield, 
and Wycliffe, after handing in a protest, retired to his 
home. 

The Reformer now changed his course, and ceasing 
to take a direct part in the affairs of the great, devoted 
himself to the interests of the people. He had derived 
great consolation and happiness from his examination 
of the Scriptures, and he was resolved that the princi- 
ples he had drawn from the holy book should be made 
known to the nation at large. From his own pulpit 
he preached constantly the truth as he understood it, 
but to speak to this one congregation did not satisfy 
him. He wished to carry his message to all his coun- 
trymen. In order to do this, he resolved to make use 
of one of the devices of the friars whose corruptions 
he attacked. If the begging friars could . roam through 



TEE ENGLISH MARTYRS. 429 

the country, and attract crowds to listen to the recital 
of their legends of the saints, why could not a similar 
but purer organization be the means of spreading a 
knowledge of the Gospel throughout England ? He 
had collected around him a number of pious and zeal- 
ous men who were admirably fitted for this work, and 
he determined to send them forth on their blessed mis- 
sion. He communicated his plan to them, and it at 
once met with their hearty approval. All things being 
ready, he sent them forth with this charge : " Go and 
preach, it is the sublimest work ; but imitate not the 
priests whom we see, after the sermon, sitting in the 
ale houses, or at the gaming table, or wasting their 
time in hunting. After your sermon is ended, do you 
visit the sick, the aged, the poor, the blind, and the 
lame, and succor them according to your ability." 

The "poor priests," as they were called, at once 
departed on their mission. Bare-footed, clad in a 
coarse robe, with a staff in their hand, they traversed 
the kingdom, preaching in fields, by the roadside, in the 
market-places of towns and villages, and often in the 
churches themselves. They taught nothing of saints, 
or legends, or relics, or of papal supremacy. They 
preached a purer faith than that of Rome — the reli- 
gion which Jesus Christ gave to his Apostles. Crowds 
flocked to hear them, and listened to them with eager- 
ness. Every day the missionaries reached some new 
portion of the kingdom, and everywhere they were 
welcomed by the people as messengers of the truth. 



430 CROSS AND CROWN. 

The effect of their preaching was most marked, and it 
seemed that England was on the point of discarding 
the faith of Rome for that preached by the " poor 
priests." The Romish clergy were alarmed. They 
beheld their influence weakened, and their revenues 
diminishing. They exerted every means in their power 
to put a stop to the preaching of the Reformers, even 
attempting to break up their meetings by violence; 
but the people took up the cause of the '" poor priests," 
and with arms defended them against the monks and 
the sheriffs who endeavored to interrupt them. 

Long before this Wycliffe had determined that his 
countrymen should have the Bible in their own tongue, 
and had begun the translation of the Latin Bible into 
English. In this work he was assisted by a number 
of his friends, men of learning and deeply imbued with 
his principles. This work occupied him ten or fifteen 
years, and was finished in 1380. His translation was 
at once put into the hands of expert copyists, who mul- 
tiplied copies of it as rapidly as possible. The " poor 
priests " had prepared the way for it, and it was received 
by the people with delight. All classes read it. Copies 
could not be multiplied fast enough. Every one wanted 
a Bible. The queen became a diligent Bible reader, 
and even the Archbishop of York followed her example. 
The effect of the spread of the Scriptures was what it 
has always been. The power and influence of Rome 
were weakened. 

This was the first general or popular version of the 



THE ENGLISH MARTYRS. 431 

Bible in English that had been seen in the kingdom. 
Portions of the Scriptures had been translated at dif- 
ferent periods, but they were preserved in the libraries 
of the kingdom as curiosities, and were utterly useless 
to the people. Wycliffe's version was the first which 
gave the people at large any idea of the Bible or its 
teachings. 

The Romish clergy and their adherents violently 
opposed the circulation and reading of the Bible. " It 
is heresy," they cried, " to speak of Holy Scripture in 
English. . . . Since the Church approved of the four 
Gospels, she would have been just as able to reject 
them and admit others ! The Church sanctions and 
condemns what she pleases. ... Learn to believe in 
fhe Church rather than in the Gospel." The opponents 
of the Gospel even carried their hostility so far as to 
propose in the House of Lords, in 1390, to seize all the 
copies of the Bible. This proposition brought the Duke 
cf Lancaster to his feet with the indignant exclamation : 
" Are we, then, the very dregs of humanity, that we 
cannot possess the laws of our religion in our own 
tongue?" 

Wycliffe now openly attacked the doctrine of Trans- 
substantiation, and declared it to be an absurdity. This 
was the boldest step he had yet taken, for the people 
implicitly believed this doctrine, and were not yet pre- 
pared to follow him so far. Even the Duke of Lan- 
caster, who had been his friend in all his previous con- 
tests with the clergy, advised him not to venture too 



432 CROSS AND CROWN. 

far. The university also took part against him, and 
the Archbishop of Canterbury summoned him to appear 
before an ecclesiastical court at Oxford to explain his 
doctrine. He obeyed the summons, and managed his 
case with such dexterity that the bishop was not able 
to censure him, though his enemies declared he had not 
recanted, bat had vindicated his heresy. 

Little by little, however, his opinions on this point 
gained ground. His followers were called Lollards, and 
were the objects of the bitterest hostility of the Romish 
clergy. The latter made a cunning attempt to identify 
the Reformer and his disciples with Wat Tyler's insur- 
rection, but failed. Courtenay, who was now Archbishop 
of Canterbury, renewed the war against Wycliffe, and 
succeeded in procuring a condemnation of his opinions 
as heretical. The archbishop also brought a bill into 
Parliament, which passed the House of Lords, for im- 
prisoning all persons who should preach heresies and 
notorious errors. As soon as the bill had passed the 
Lords, the archbishop began to act upon it, whereupon 
the Commons, indignant at this disregard of their rights, 
demanded its annulment as it had not obtained their 
consent. Courtenay was not to be defeated thus, how- 
ever. He procured an order from the king to the chan- 
cellor of the university, requiring him to banish Wycliffe 
from Oxford. The chancellor replied that to put such 
an order into execution would be to produce a serious 
disturbance, as Wycliffe's followers were prepared to 
defend him with arms. The Reformer, however, averted 



THE ENGLISH MARTYRS. 433 

the danger by submitting to the royal command, and 
retiring to his rectory of Lutterworth. Here he carried 
on his war against the Pope with renewed vigor. Urban 
VI. summoned him to Rome, but he refused to go, plead- 
ing his age and feebleness as his excuse. He was seized 
with a stroke of palsy as he was celebrating the service 
in his church, and died at the age of sixty. 

" Wycliffe," says Southey, " held some erroneous 
opinions, some fantastic ones, and some which, in their 
moral and political consequences, are most dangerous. 
Considering the intrepidity and ardor of his mind, it is 
surprising that his errors were not more and greater. 
A great and admirable man he was ; his fame, high as 
it is, was not above his deserts ; and it suffers no abate- 
ment upon comparison with the most illustrious of those 
who have followed in the path which he opened. His 
writings were carried into Bohemia by one of the natives 
of that country, whom the marriage of their princess with 
Richard II. had brought into England. From the perusal 
of them, John Huss imbibed those opinions concerning 
the Papal Church for which he suffered heroically at the 
stake, to his eternal honor, and to the perpetual infamy 
of the council which condemned him, and of the em- 
peror, who suffered the safe conduct which he had given 
him to be broken ; and Huss prepared the way for 
Luther." 

"Wycliffe' s doctrines did not die with him in England. 
They had taken too deep a root in the hearts of the 
people for that. After the death of the Reformer his 

28 



434 CROSS AND CROWN. 

disciples became so active in their hostility to the 
Romish Church that the bishops invoked the royal 
power to aid them in putting down the opposition. 
Henry IV., having been aided in his usurpation of the 
throne by the clergy, complied with the demand, and a 
severe persecution of the Reformers began. The first 
victim of the priests, and the first Protestant martyr of 
England, was William Sawtree, a pious priest, who had 
dared to say : " Instead of adoring the cross on which 
Christ suffered, I adore Christ who suffered on it." He 
was condemned and burned at the stake in March, 1401. 
Having now tasted blood, the clergy went farther. 
They drew up the articles known as the " Constitutions 
of Arundel," so called from their author, Arundel, Arch- 
bishop of York. These constitutions forbade the read- 
ing of the Bible, and styled the Pope, " not a mere man, 
but a true God." * Many of the Reformers were ar- 
rested and imprisoned in that portion of Lambeth 
Palace (the London residence of the Archbishop of 
Canterbury) which has since been known as the Lol- 
lards' Tower. The martyrdom of Sir John Oldcastle, 
Lord Cobham, followed, in 1417. The London prisons 
were filled with Lollards, and it was decreed that they 
should be hanged on the king's account, and burnt for 
God's. The war was carried on so fiercely that the Re- 
formers were obliged to hide themselves. They did not 
desert their principles, but they could no longer main- 

* D'Aubign6. 



THE ENGLISH MARTYRS. 435 

tain them openly. The civil wars which soon burst 
upon the land afforded them some respite. At the re- 
turn of peace, however, Henry VII. allowed, if he did 
not encourage, the clergy to renew the persecution of 
the Lollards. This portion of their history is marked 
by several cruel martyrdoms. Joan Bough ton, a gentle- 
woman, eighty years of age, and greatly beloved for her 
virtues, was burned at the stake. She was the first 
female martyr of England. Her daughter, Lady Young, 
was also put to death in the same way. William Tyls- 
worth was burnt at Amersworth, and his only daughter, 
being suspected of heresy, was compelled by the priests 
to set fire to the fatal pile with her own hands. u By 
such barbarities did the Romish Church provoke the 
indignation of God and man. That it should have made 
one real convert by such means, is impossible ; though 
it compelled many to abjuration. In that case, the 
miserable. wretches whom it admitted to its mercy, were 
made to bear a fagot in public, while they witnessed the 
martyrdom of those who had more constancy than them- 
selves. They were fastened to a stake by the neck with 
towels, and their hands held fast, while they were 
marked on the cheek with a hot iron ; after which, they 
were for life to wear a fagot, worked or painted on the 
left sleeve ; and if they ventured to lay aside this badge, 
which, if they were in humble life, consigned them to 
want as well as infamy, they were sent to the flames 
without remission ; so that it became a saying, Put it 
off and be burnt ; keep it on and be starved. Bishop 



436 % CROSS AND CROWN. 

Nix, of Norwich, one of the most infamous for his 
activity in this persecution, used to call the persons 
whom he suspected of heretical opinions, men savoring 
of the frying-pan ; with such levity did these monsters 
regard the sufferings they inflicted." * 

These martyrdoms continued through a large part of 
the reign of Henry VIII., who at the outset was as bitter 
an enemy to the Keformed as his father had been. The 
progress of the Keformation in Germany had made the 
Romish clergy of England more vigilant than they 
would have been, and they were resolved that, if they 
could prevent it, England should not share in the new 
opinions. In their anxiety to root out heresy, they 
inaugurated a new reign of cruelty. They compelled 
children to accuse their parents, parents their children, 
wives their husbands, and husbands their wives, threat- 
ening them with the same fate unless they thus violated 
their natural affections. Those who persisted in their 
opinions were sent to the stake, and those who abjured 
were condemned, under the name of perpetual penance, 
to perpetual bondage. They were confined in monas- 
teries, and made to labor for the food which was given 
to them. They were never allowed to conceal the mark 
which had been put upon them with a hot iron, and 
were to bear a fagot at stated periods, and once at the 
burning of a heretic. Thomas Bilney and James Bain- 
ham and others were put to death with cruel torments. 

* Southey's Book of the Church (Chandos Edition), p. 213. 



THE ENGLISH MARTYRS. 437 

These cruelties reacted directly upon the priests. 
They were utterly distasteful to the English people, 
and gradually brought them to regard with secret hor- 
ror, the men by whom they were instigated and per- 
petrated. The crowds which collected to witness these 
terrible scenes did not all come, as in other lands, to 
exult over the agonies of the victims of Rome.V Many 
of the spectators were the friends and fellow believers 
of the martyrs, and it was with them a holy duty to 
be present on such occasions, to cheer the sufferers with 
their words, when they dared to speak, or by their 
glances of silent sympathy and encouragement, and to 
assure them that their prayers were with them in their 
hour of trial. More than this, they came to be wit- 
nesses to the firmness with which the martyrs held the 
faith, for it was the habit of the priests to declare that 
their victims recanted at the moment of death. Others 
there were, silent and^ sad, who came to see how a 
Eeformer could die. These last went away deeply 
impressed with the sorrowful scene, and in many 
instances they embraced the faith which had made 
the martyrs strong. Upon all classes the effect of the 
executions was injurious to Rome. The English spirit 
revolted against them, and the Romish Church thus 
gradually destroyed its hold upon the nation. 

The Government had not only permitted, but had 
encouraged the executions, but it had not yielded to 
Rome in other things. The Sovereign had never 
acknowledged the Pope's supremacy since the days of 



438 CROSS AND CROWN. 

John, and the independence of the country had been 
steadfastly maintained, even by the Lancasterian kings, 
the cruellest of all the persecutors. The Pope had in 
vain tried to procure the repeal of the Statute of 
Praemunire; the king and the nation hacl maintained 
it at all times as the great barrier against Papal ag- 
gression. Moreover, the great wealth of the clergy 
had drawn upon them the envy if not the hostility of 
the Crown, and the danger which menaced them from 
this quarter was even greater than that with which 
the Eeformers threatened them. 

When Henry VIII. came to the throne, he was full 
of zeal for the Church. He took up the pen against 
Luther, and was rewarded by the Pope with the title 
" Defender of the Faith." Yet he, too, pursued the 
policy of his predecessors in maintaining the indepen- 
dence of his crown. When his inclination turned 
against his wife, Catharine of Arragon, he found it im- 
possible to induce the Pope to sanction his divorce 
from her. This changed him from a champion into an 
enemy of the Romish Church, and in his vexation he 
conceived the idea of making the Church of England 
entirely independent of that of Rome. Not that he 
wished to introduce or encourage the faith of the Re- 
formers, for, in all things which did not clash with his 
interests, Henry was still a good Catholic. But now 
that he had resolved to have done with the Pope, he 
could not avoid playing into the hands of the Refor- 
mers. He made Sir Thomas Cromwell Secretary of 



THE ENGLISH MARTYRS. 439 

State, and Thomas Cranmer Archbishop of Canter- 
bury. Cromwell was a man of undaunted ambition, 
and of great ability. He loved power, and scrupled at 
little to secure it and retain it. That he possessed 
noble qualities, however, is proved by his generous 
devotion to his patron, Cardinal Wolsey, after the 
downfall of that great man. Henry chose him because 
of his ability, and his conviction that he would prove a 
useful ally in his fight with Rome. Cranmer was a 
meek, gentle ecclesiastic, who cared little for public 
honors or controversies, but who was willing to go to 
the stake, if need be, in defence of what he believed 
to be the truth. The king wanted Cromwell to sever 
the Church from Rome, and he desired the good Cran- 
mer to reorganize it after the separation. Little did 
the wilful Sovereign know what he was doing. It 
sometimes pleases God that the most discreditable 
motives may be the occasions of great good. It was 
so in this case. Henry, to gratify his own passions, 
put in motion a work which it was not in the power of 
man to check, and which resulted in the establishment 
of Protestantism in England and America. 

Cromwell advised the king to declare himself the 
head of the Church in his own dominions, and Henry 
promptly acted upon this advice. The bishops and 
higher clergy were indignant, but the king put a most 
formidable engine in operation against them. Nearly 
all of them had at some time violated the Statute of 
Prc&munire, and had thus rendered themselves liable 



440 CROSS AND CROWN. 

to its penalties. This had been the direct cause of the 
downfall of Wolsey, and the completeness of his over- 
throw showed that Henry would not hesitate to use 
the advantage he thus possessed. Cromwell notified 
the clergy of their danger, and caused them to be in- 
formed that they could make their peace with the 
king by acknowledging his supremacy, and paying a 
fine equal in the aggregate to one hundred thousand 
pounds. They had the wit to accept the situation. 
They paid the fine, and acknowledged the king's 
supremacy, with the qualifying clause quantum per 
Christi leges licet. This much gained, Henry pro- 
ceeded to divorce Catharine, after which he married 
Anne Bolevn. 

Previous to this a great change had been wrought 
among the people, one which prepared them to sanc- 
tion Henry's breach with Borne, and which indeed 
placed them farther in the path of truth than the king 
ever got. Tyndale, a pious priest, being awakened to 
a sense of the truth of the Gospel, and being convinced 
that the great necessity of the people was a knowledge 
of the contents of the New Testament, had under- 
taken the translation of the sacred books, and thes"§ 
had been widely read in England. The priests had 
waged a bitter war upon those who dared to purchase 
or read Tyndale's translation, but it had been largely 
circulated in England in spite of the severities de- 
nounced against its readers. Dangerous as it was, it 
was eagerly sought for. Such copies as were seized 



THE ENGLISH MARTYRS. 441 

were publicly burned at Cheapside. The Komanists 
were aware that a knowledge of the Gospel truths 
would thoroughly expose the frauds they had practised 
upon the people. Hence their severity. They failed 
to check the circulation of the New Testament, how- 
ever, and only succeeded in arousing the indignation 
of the people, who openly resented the burning of God's 
word. The clergy found it impossible to check the 
demand for the Scriptures — that book so fatal to their 
pretensions and practices. 

The reading of the Gospel had, as has been said, 
prepared the people for the separation from Borne. It 
had done more. It had created a desire for a reform 
in the doctrines of the English Church. This was a 
great gain. The first step taken by Cranmer was to 
procure a resolution from both houses of Convocation, 
requesting the king that the Scriptures should be trans- 
lated by learned men appointed by him, and given to 
the people. In accordance with this request, the king 
sanctioned the translation of the entire Bible made by 
Miles Coverdale, and printed, it is supposed, at Zurich. 
He ordered that the whole Bible, both in Latin and in 
English, should be placed in the choir of every parish 
church, and that all men should be exhorted to read it. 

It was a great day for England when the Bible was 
made free. The author of the measure was Cranmer. 
He was materially aided by the influence of Queen 
Anne and Cromwell with the king, but the chief credit 
is due to the archbishop. The queen also succeeded 



442 CROSS AND CROWN. 

in procuring the appointment of Latimer, a pupil of 
the martyr Bilney, and the great preacher of the Re- 
formation, to the See of Worcester. 

" The public feeling was now in favor of reforma- 
tion, though even the leaders in that work knew not as 
yet how far they should proceed. But the Romanists 
had injured their own cause, and the martyrs had 
not offered up their lives in vain. Frith's case, in 
particular, had shocked the people. They had seen 
him kiss the stake, and suffer with the calm intrepidity 
of conscious virtue, full of hope and. faith; and when 
they saw so young, so learned, and so exemplary a 
man put to this inhuman death, for no crime, — not 
even for teaching heretical doctrines, but merely 
because he would not affirm that a belief in purgatory 
and in the corporeal presence was necessary to salva- 
tion, — many even of those who believed in both were 
shocked at the atrocious iniquity of the sentence. 
The effect appeared in Parliament; and an Act was 
passed by which the clergy were deprived of the 
power of committing men on suspicion of heresy, or 
proceeding against them without presentment or ac- 
cusation. Presentments by two witnesses at least 
were required, and then they were to be tried in open 
court. In other respects, the laws, inhuman as they 
were, were left in force. The age was not yet ripe 
for further mitigation, but this was a great and impor- 
tant step. * 

* Southey. 



THE ENGLISH MARTYRS. 443 

The Romanists now resorted to trickery. They 
had opposed as far as they dared the king's supremacy, 
and now they tried to work upon his superstitious fears. 
A nun in Kent was encouraged to utter prophecies 
against him. She. had originally been put forward for 
the purpose of bringing a particular image into repute, 
and her prophecies now took a political turn. She 
denounced the divorce, and declared that if Henry 
persisted in his hostility to Rome, he should lose his 
crown, and die a villain's death. The Romanists 
impudently published this declaration, and the matter 
began to assume a serious political aspect. Henry at 
once ordered the arrest of the nun and her accomplices. 
She and five of her associates were executed. Before 
her death, she confessed her imposture, saying that she 
had been encouraged by the priests to believe that her 
utterances were by the power of the Holy Ghost, that 
they must have known she was feigning, and that they 
had used her because she was profitable to them. It 
was now treason to deny the king's supremacy, yet 
a number of Carthusian monks ventured to do so. 
Henry's anger was aroused, and he resolved to strike 
terror to his opponents. When in this frame of mind 
he was not very scrupulous. Fisher, the Bishop of 
Rochester, and Sir Thomas More, who had been Secre- 
tary of State, were implicated in the affair of the 
Kentish Nun, and the king brought them both to trial 
for their offence, and sent them to the block. Both of 
these men had been severe persecutors of the Refor- 



444 CROSS AND CROWN. 

mers, and they now drank of the bitter cup they had 
so often held to the lips of others, and suffered the in- 
justice they had meted out to their victims. Henry 
was so angry at the opposition of the Romanists to his 
supremacy that he would have sent his own daughter, 
the Princess Mary, to the Tower, for her refusal, had 
not Cranmer earnestly dissuaded him from his purpose. 
Cranmer was well aware of the personal risk he ran in 
venturing to oppose the fury of the king, but he shrank 
not from his duty, which was to control the king as 
far as was possible, and to use his influence to promote 
the peaceable triumph of the Reformation. 

Cranmer now took another bold step. The monas- 
teries were the centres of gross corruption and a 
baneful idleness. They were also rallying points for 
the enemies of the Reformation, and their suppression 
was necessary to the success of the great movement. 
Therefore Cranmer advised the king to suppress the 
monasteries. Commissioners were appointed to' visit 
the monasteries, and report concerning their condi- 
tion, discipline, and possessions. Their investigations 
brought to light a multitude of abuses. Numbers of 
persons were found imprisoned in them, who had been 
compelled by their parents to bind themselves with 
irrevocable vows, in order that they might not diminish 
the portion of their elder brothers. The visitors had 
authority to release all such, and when this was known 
the poor captives threw themselves on their knees 
before them, and begged piteously for their liberty. 



THE ENGLISH MARTYRS. 445 

The grossest tyranny prevailed in nearly all of these 
establishments, and the blackest and foulest crimes in 
many of them. In some a regular process of counter- 
feiting the coin of the realm was carried on. Many of 
the nunneries were little better than brothels. Many 
of the inmates of the religious houses openly told the 
commissioners that they would not reform their institu- 
tions; they would rather see them broken up, since 
after their lives of luxury and debauchery, a return to 
the severe principles of their orders would be intolera- 
ble. A bill was accordingly introduced in Parliament 
suppressing certain of the religious houses, and confer- 
ring upon the king all their possessions. By this Act, 
375 of these establishments were broken up. The 
property thus gained was dispersed by grant, sale, and 
exchange. 

About this time the Convocation set forth certain 
articles as the authoritative expression of the faith of 
the English Church. This declaration was made by 
authority of the king, as head of the Church of Eng- 
land. " The Bible and the three Creeds were made 
the standards of faith; no mention being made of 
tradition, nor of the decrees of the Church. Three 
Sacraments ; those of Baptism, Penance, and the Altar, 
were said to be necessary to salvation, — four being thus 
pretermitted ; but the corporeal presence was declared, 
and the necessity of auricular confession. Images were 
allowed as useful, but they were not to be worshipped ; 
and saints might laudably be addressed as intercessors, 



446 CROSS AND CROWN. 

though it was asserted that Christ is our only sufficient 
Mediator. The existing rites and ceremonies were to 
be retained, as good and laudable ; not as having 
power to remit sin, but as useful in stirring and lifting 
our minds unto God, by whom only our sins can be 
forgiven. Lastly, prayers for the dead were advised 
as good and charitable ; though the question of Purga- 
tory was said to be uncertain by Scripture, and the 
abuses which, under that belief, had arisen, were to be 
put away." * 

This declaration was better than pure Eomanism, 
but it did not represent the faith of the Reformers. 
The Romanists were very strong in the lower house of 
Convocation, and had labored hard to make the state- 
ment set forth their own views. They were met at 
every point by the Reformers ; and though they were 
hindered from committing the English Church to a 
renewal of the errors of Rome, they succeeded in pre- 
venting the Reformers from publishing their doctrines 
as the faith of the Church. The declaration was 
simply a compromise which satisfied neither party. 

The Romanists were still strong in England, and 
they took great offence at the suppression of the con- 
vents, and the declaration of the Convocation. They 
took up arms in the north of England, to the number 
of one hundred thousand men. They bore before them 
a crucifix and wore emblems of the Romish faith upon 

* Southey's Book of the Church (Chandos edition), p. 246. 



THE ENGLISH MARTYRS. 447 

their dress. They were accompanied by numerous 
priests, and their avowed object was to compel Henry 
to restore the Romish faith and Worship in England. 
They set out from Yorkshire for London, halting on 
the way to restore the monks and nuns to the sup- 
pressed convents. The king was obliged to take the 
field against them, and it was with difficulty that the 
outbreak was put down and a civil war prevented. 
A number of executions followed the restoration of 
tranquillity. Several of the great abbots, and Lord 
Darcy, were put to death for the part they had taken 
in the insurrection. 

The king proceeded with his suppression of the 
monasteries. He derived from the acquisition of them 
yearly revenues exceeding one hundred and thirty 
thousand pounds. He set apart a sum not exceeding 
eight thousand pounds for the establishment of a 
number of new Bishoprics. He gambled away a large 
part of the rest, and gave the remainder to his 
favorites. 

The suppression of the convents brought to light 
many gross impostures on the part of the Romish 
Church, and the discovery did much to widen the 
breach between that Church and the English people. 
" The simplest persons perceived what frauds had been 
practised concerning relics, when more pieces of the 
true cross were produced than would have made a 
whole one : and so many teeth of Saint Apollonia, 
which were distributed as amulets against toothache, 



448 CROSS AND CROWN. 

that they filled a tun. The abominable frauds of the 
Romish Church hastened its downfall now, more than 
they had promoted its rise. A vial was shown at 
Hales in Gloucestershire, as containing a portion of our 
blessed Saviour's blood, which suffered itself to be seen 
by no person in a state of mortal sin, but became visi- 
ble when the penitent, by his offerings, had obtained 
forgiveness. It was now discovered, that this was per- 
formed by keeping blood, which was renewed every 
week, in a vial, one side of which was thick and opaque, 
the other transparent, and turning by a secret hand, as 
the case required. A trick of the same kind, more skil- 
fully executed, is still annually performed at Naples. 
There was a crucifix at Boxley,. called the Rood of 
Grace, which was a favorite object of pilgrimage, 
because the image moved its head, hands, and feet, 
rolled its eyes, and made many other gestures, which 
were represented as miraculous, and believed to be so. 
The mechanism whereby all this was done was now 
exposed to the public, and the Bishop of Rochester, 
after preaching a sermon upon the occasion, broke the 
rood to pieces in their sight. Henry failed not to take 
advantage of the temper which such disclosures ex- 
cited. Shrines and treasures, which it might otherwise 
have been dangerous to have invaded, were now 
thought rightfully to be seized, when they had been 
procured by such gross and palpable impositions. The 
gold from Becket's shrine alone filled two chests, which 
were a load for eight strong men. Becket was un- 



THE ENGLISH MARTYRS. 449 

sainted as well as unshrined, by the king, who, taking 
up the cause of his ancestor, ordered his name to be 
struck out from the Callendar, and his bones burnt. 
Another fraud was then discovered— for the skull was 
found with the rest of the skeleton, in his grave, 
though another had been produced, to work miracles, 
as his, in the church." 

The Pope had beheld the course of Henry with 
open wrath from the beginning, and had threatened to 
excommunicate him, but had from motives of policy 
refrained from putting his threat into execution. The 
uncanonization of Becket, however, put him in a fury, 
and he launched against Hr nry a Bull requiring him 
and his accomplices to appear at Rome to answer for 
their actions. The Bull provided for the refusal of the 
king, and in this event excommunicated him, deprived 
him of his crown, laid the kingdom under an interdict, 
absolved his subjects from their allegiance to him, de- 
clared him infamous, called upon the nobles and people 
of England to take up arms against him, and com- 
manded all the princes of Christendom, in virtue of 
the obedience they owed to the Apostolic See, to make 
war upon him, and to seize such of his subjects as they 
could lay hands on, and hold them as slaves. In his 
letters to the different princes, to whom copies of the 
Bull were sent,, the Pope styled Henry a heretic, a 
schismatic, a manifest adulterer, a public murderer, a 
rebel convicted of high treason against his Lord the 

Pope. The Pontiff offered the kingdom of England to 
29 



450 CROSS AND CRO WN. 

the King of Scotland, upon the very sensible condition 
that he would go and take it. 

But Papal thunders could no longer shake the throne 
of England. The power of Rome had departed, and 
England had fairly entered upon her glorious career 
of religious and intellectual freedom. It was a very 
imperfect beginning, it is true ; but it was still a begin- 
ning. The Pope's wrath fell harmless, and his Bull 
accomplished nothing. The nation stood ready to sup- 
port the king, and even the Romish bishops joined in 
the declaration with which Henry met the Papal blast, 
" that Christ had forbidden his Apostles or their suc- 
cessors to take to themselves the power of the Sword, 
or the authority of kings ; and that if the Bishop of 
Rome, or any other bishop, assumed any such power, 
he was a tyrant and usurper of other men's rights, and 
a subverter of the kingdom of Christ." The Romish 
bishops were convinced that to oppose the king would 
be to bring about the total destruction of their Church 
in England, and they yielded to him from policy. The 
most obsequious of these was the infamous Bishop Gar- 
diner, a monster of cruelty, whom we shall encounter 
again in this narrative. He was the craftiest, most 
unscrupulous, as well as one of the ablest enemies of 
the Reformation, and he adopted the Jesuitical policy 
of humoring the king, and at the same time endeavor- 
ing to lead him back insensibly to Rome, or at least 
to confirm ,him in his enmity to the doctrines of the 
Reformation. 



THE ENGLISH MARTYRS, 451 

Henry's vanity and selfishness did much for the 
Church of England by breaking down the power and 
influence of Rome in the land, but that Church owes 
him no thanks for that. He was always a cruel per- 
secutor of the doctrines of the Reformation, which 
prevailed in England before his birth, and finally tri- 
umphed in spite of his hostility, except when he could 
use them to further his own ends. Having now se- 
cured the acceptance of his supremacy, he determined 
to force upon the Reformers an acquiescence in those 
doctrines which he held. In this he was influenced 
by Gardiner, whose abilities he valued, but whose char- 
acter he despised, although he was not conscious of this 
influence. Henry was unwilling to acknowledge him- 
self a heretic, and clung with pride to the title of 
" Defender of the Faith." Gardiner taking advantage 
of this feeling, craftily represented to him that nothing 
could so effectually remove from him the imputation 
of heresy as to compel the Reformers to accept the 
ancient doctrine of the Church with regard to the 
Lord's Supper, or in plain English to force the doctrine 
of Transubstantiation upon them. They had utterly 
rejected this sinful doctrine, and the cunning prelate 
knew that if he could array the king against them on 
this point, he would do much towards checking the 
Reformation in England. Henry took the bishops 
advice. The result was that a martyr was found im- 
mediately, John Lambert, by name. The king pre- 
sided over his trial, and even the gentle Cranmer con- 



452 CROSS AND CROWN. 

sented to his death. Cranmer had not then abandoned 
the Romish doctrine of Transubstantiation, and he also 
held that death by fire was the proper pun aliment for 
denying it. He made a full atonement for his error, 
in the end. Lambert was put to death with great 
barbarity. 

The martyrdom of Lambert was followed by the 
passage of a series of measures known as the "Six 
Articles." By these Articles it was declared, as the 
belief of the Church of England, that no substance 
of bread and wine remained in the elements after the 
consecration ; that communion in both kinds was not 
enjoined to all persons; that it was not lawful for 
priests to marry; that vows of chastity must be ob- 
served ; that private masses were meet and good, and 
that auricular confession was necessary to salvation. 
Those who should preach, write, or teach against the 
first Article were to be burned alive without being 
allowed an opportunity of recantation. Offenders 
against the other five, or any of them, were declared 
guilty of felony without benefit of clergy. Cranmer,- 
who had been privately married, warmly opposed the 
passage of the Articles, and seeing their adoption inevit- 
able, had sent his wife to Germany, her native coun- 
try, until the return of better times. He accepted the 
first, but opposed the others from principle. Latimer and 
Thaxton resigned their bishoprics immediately upon the 
passage of the Articles, and were arrested and r sent to 
the Tower. Hundreds of persons were arrested, and 



THE ENGLISH MARTYRS. 453 

the king found it more expedient to grant a general 
nardon than to proceed against all the offenders. 

The Six Articles were made the means of bringing 
about the fall of Cromwell, whose real crime was that 
he had incurred the mortal enmity of the Duke of Nor- 
folk, the uncle of the new queen, Catharine Howard. 
Cranmer vainly endeavored to save him, risking a 
second time his influence and life in interfering be- 
tween Henry and the object of his wrath. 

After the fall of Cromwell, the Six Articles were 
rigorously enforced. Many martyrs were added to the 
long roll of the heroes of the Church of England. The 
fires were constantly burning at Smithfield. Gardiner 
was admirably sustained in his bloody work by the 
brutal Bonner, Bishop of London. The Komanists 
dared not avow themselves as such. Their influence 
with the king would have died on the instant of such 
an avowal. They craftily maintained that influence 
over him as believers in Tran substantiation. They 
not only brought on this persecution, but they suc- 
ceeded in securing a revocation of the general permis- 
sion to the people to read the Bible. "Nobles or 
gentlemen might cause the Bible to be read to them, 
in or about their own houses, quietly. Every mer- 
chant who was a householder, might read it; so also 
might noble and gentle- women, but no persons under 
those degrees." It seemed that the Reformation was 
to be stopped, and indeed it would have been had the 
king or the Romanists been able to control the con- 



454 CROSS AND CROWN. 

sciences of the people. The truth was gradually grow- 
ing stronger among the masses, however, and Rome 
was growing weaker. The people had learned to think 
for themselves. 

The new Queen, Catharine Parr, was known to favor 
the Reformation, and Gardiner exerted all his efforts to 
bring about her ruin. One of her attendants was Mistress 
Anne Askew, a lady of great beauty and learning, who 
was an avowed Protestant. With the hope of com- 
pelling her to denounce the queen, Gardiner caused 
her to be accused of heresy, and had her subjected 
to the cruellest tortures, after which she was con- 
demned and burned to death. Her persecutors were 
not able to extort from her a word which could be used 
against Queen Catharine. The Popish party were not 
satisfied to be so baffled, however, and they endeavored 
to induce the king to allow them to proceed against 
her, because Anne Askew had been her companion and 
friend. The queen received timely warning of her 
danger. Henry had not yet ceased to love her, and 
her ready wit enabled her to baffle her enemies and 
make it evident to them that her hold upon the king 
was too strong for them to venture to attack her again. 

Enraged at their defeat, Gardiner and his colleagues 
turned upon Cranmer, and representing to the king 
that he and his learned men were destroying the king- 
dom with heresy, asked his commitment to the tower. 
Henry thoroughly esteemed, and was sincerely attached 
to, Cranmer. He allowed them to proceed far enough 



THE ENGLISH MARTYRS. 455 

to enable the archbishop to see who were his enemies, 
and who his friends, and then sternly forbade them to 
raise a hand against the primate, whom he declared to 
be faithful and true. 

The remainder of the reign of Henry VIII. was 
passed in a constant struggle by the Popish party and 
the Reformers. At the death of the king a great 
weight was removed from the Reformation. Though 
Henry had done much for the Church of England, his 
death was a blessing to it. 

Edward VI. ascended the throne in 1547. He was 
scarcely ten years old, but he displayed unusual 
powers for so young a child. He had been carefully 
trained in the principles of the Reformation, and when 
he came to the throne his advisers and those upon 
whom he chiefly depended were of the Reformed faith. 
At his coronation, when the three swords, for the three 
kingdoms, were brought to be carried before him, he 
said that one was wanting, and called for the Bible. 
" That," said he, " is the sword of the Spirit, and 
ought in all right to govern us, who use these for the 
people's safety, by God's appointment. Without that 
sword we are nothing ; we can do nothing. From that 
we are what we are this day — we receive whatsoever 
it iu that we at this present do assume. Under that 
we ought to live, to fight, to govern the people, and to 
perform all our affairs. From that alone we obtain all 
power, virtue, grace, salvation, and whatsoever we 
have of divine strength." Wonderful words from such 



456 CROSS AND CROWN. 

a child, and full of promise for his people. The 
king's uncle, Edward Seymour, Earl of Hertford, was 
appointed Governor of the king's person and Lord Pro- 
tector of the kingdom, and was immediately created 
Duke of Somerset. 

The work of the Reformation now went on with 
rapidity. The Romanists, with Gardiner and Bonner 
at their head, continued to oppose it, but not with the 
same success they had met with in the previous reign. 
The political leaders, desirous of obtaining the wealth 
of the clergy, committed many acts of injustice upon 
them. The direction of the doctrinal part of the Re- 
formation, lay chiefly in the hands of Cranmer, assisted 
by Latimer and Ridley. The archbishop had devoted 
himself with great • earnestness to an examination of 
the doctrine of Transubstantiation, and during the last 
year of King Henry's reign, had become convinced 
that it was an error. He had at once abandoned it. 
Near about the same time a similar conclusion had 
been arrived at by Bishops Latimer and Ridley, and 
Cranmer found them able coadjutors in the great work 
which was now entrusted to him. The work w r as car- 
ried on with moderation. The disposition as well as 
the principles of Cranmer inclined him to mildness, 
and as the object he aimed at was simply the establish- 
ment of the truth and the destruction of error, he could 
well afford to proceed with deliberation. 

Soon after the opening of the new reign, it was 
ordered in the king's name that the clergy should, once 



THE ENGLISH MARTYRS. 457 

a quarter at least, dissuade the people from pilgrimages 
and image-worship, and that images to which pilgrim- 
ages were performed or offerings made should be de- 
stroyed. " All shrines, with their coverings, tables, 
candlesticks, trindills or rolls of wax, pictures, and other 
monuments of feigned miracles, were to be taken away 
and destroyed, so that no memory of them should re- 
main in walls or windows ; and the people were to be 
exhorted to make the like clearance in their houses. 
Pulpits were to be provided, the Lord's Prayer, the 
Creed, and the Commandments, were to be recited by 
the priest, on holy days, when there was no sermon ; 
and no person, who could not recite them, should be 
admitted to the Sacrament. No person might preach 
unless he were licensed ; and because of the lack of 
preachers, the curates were to read homilies, which 
would be set forth by the king's authority. A register 
was to be kept in every parish for marriages, christen- 
ings, and burials. The fifth part of every benefice was 
to be expended on the mansion house or chancel till 
both should be in full repair ; and for every hundred a 
year which a clergyman possessed, in church prefer- 
ment, he should give a competent exhibition to a scholar 
at the university. Holy days were to be kept holy ; 
but it was declared lawful for the people to work on 
them in time of harvest, and save that which God 
hath sent; scrupulosity, on such occasions, being 
pronounced sinful." 

Before these injunctions were issued, the people, of 



CROSS AND CROWN. 

their own accord, had begun to demolish images in 
many parts of the kingdom, declaring that it was not 
lawful to tolerate that which was forbidden by the 
second commandment. From demolishing images, they 
afterward passed to the destruction and plundering of 
the churches themselves ; and thus many beautiful and 
valuable works of art and objects of historic interest 
were destroyed. 

The Protestants now had a majority in the Govern- 
ment, and were able to put their measures in force. 
An Act was passed, ordering that the Sacrament of the 
Lord's Supper should be administered in both kinds, 
conformably to the institution of our Saviour, and the 
practice of the primitive Church. Private masses were 
abolished, and the Romish clergy thus deprived of one 
of the principal sources of their revenues. 

" When the new office for the communion was set 
forth, the point of confession was left free. Such as 
desired to make their confession to a priest, were ad- 
monished not to censure those who were satisfied with 
confessing to God, and the latter not to be offended 
with those who continued the practice of auricular con- 
fession ; all being exhorted to keep the rule of charity, 
follow their own conscience, and not to judge others in 
things not appointed by Scripture. A Liturgy was pre- 
pared, with the same sound judgment which charac- 
terized all those measures wherein Cranmer had the 
lead. It was compiled from the different Romish offices 
used in this kingdom ; whatever w T as unexceptionable 



THE ENGLISH MARTYRS. 459 

was retained, all that savored of superstition was dis- 
carded ; the prayers to the saints were expunged, and 
all their lying legends ; and the people were provided 
with a Christian ritual in their own tongue." The 
clergy were given permission to marry ; the laws which 
deprived them of that right being repealed. This gave 
great offence to the Romanists. They bitterly denounced 
the celebration of the service by the married clergy as 
a desecration of the altar, and declared that all who 
took wives were perjured by that act. Gardiner and 
Bonner utterly refused to consent to these changes, and 
were deprived of their sees and imprisoned. They were 
treated with leniency during their captivity. The 
Protestants had a fair opportunity of retaliating upon 
them the cruelties which they had inflicted upon the 
martyrs in the preceding reign, but in no instance did 
they imitate the example of the Romanists in this 
respect. The spoliation of the churches was their worst 
act; and this was stopped by the interference of Arch- 
bishop Cranmer. 

This spoliation and the seizure of the Abbey lands, 
brought on a rising of the Romanists in the west of 
England, similar to that which had occurred during the 
previous reign. It was suppressed with difficulty. This 
movement was followed by insurrections in Norfolk and 
the North, which were also put down. 

The fall of the Duke of Somerset, and the advance- 
ment of the Earl of Warwick to the Protectorate, with 
the title of Duke of Northumberland, made no change 



460 CROSS AND CROWN. 

in the religious policy of the kingdom. Northumber- 
land paid no attention to religious matters, save to 
sneer at and ridicule them. He was energetic, how- 
ever, in securing to himself and his favorites what re- 
mained of the plunder of the religious establishments. 
Cranmer and Ridley incurred his displeasure for resist- 
ing his course, and Latimer, Lever, Bradford, and John 
Knox, sharply censured him, thereby incurring, his 
enmity. 

The Reformers had by this time begun to differ 
among themselves upon points of doctrine and concern- 
ing certain practices. The Romish clergy cunningly 
exerted themselves to increase these differences. The 
mischief might have become very great had the Re- 
formers continued in power. But it pleased God to 
try the Church of England once more with a fearful 
persecution. The good young King Edward VI. died 
on the 6th of July, 1553. He was succeeded by his 
elder sister, Mary, the daughter of Catharine of Arragon, 
the attempt to place Lady Jane Grey upon the throne 
proving a failure. 

Queen Mary had no difficulty in obtaining the 
acquiescence of the nation in her claim. The men 
of Suffolk were the first to declare for her. They were 
Protestants, and they obtained from her a promise that 
she would make no change in the religion which her 
brother had established. She began her reign by vio- 
lating this promise. 

" If any person may be excused for hating the Re- 



THE ENGLISH MARTYRS. 461 

formation/' says Southey, "it was Mary. She regarded 
it as having arisen in this country from her mothers 
wrongs, as having aggravated those wrongs, and enabled 
the king to complete an iniquitous and cruel divorce. 
It had exposed her to inconvenience, and even danger, 
under her father's reign, to vexation and restraint under 
her brother ; and after having been bastardized in con- 
sequence of it, and again restored to her rights, when 
she ought to have succeeded peaceably to the throne, 
an attempt had been made to deprive her of the inheri- 
tance because she continued to profess the Roman 
Catholic faith. Her understanding was good, and had 
been cultivated most carefully; she was a religious 
woman, according to the faith which she had imbibed; 
she had inherited something of her mother's constitu- 
tional melancholy, something of her father's immitigable 
disposition ; and as the circumstances of her life hitherto 
had tended to foster the former propensity, those in 
which she now found herself were not likely to correct 
the latter. Had the religion of the country been settled, 
she might have proved a good and beneficent, as well 
as conscientious queen. But she delivered her con- 
science to the direction of cruel men ; and believing it 
her duty to act up to the worst principles of a perse- 
cuting church, boasted that she was a virgin sent by 
God to ride and tame the people of England." 

The rebellions and sufferings that had fallen upon 
the country during the reign of Edward, the outrages 
of Northumberland, and the scandals to which the 



462 CROSS AND CRO WN. 

differences of the Reformers had given rise, had done 
much to strengthen the Roman Catholic party by caus- 
ing many of the people to regard these evils as being 
in a measure the legitimate consequences of the Refor- 
mation. The opposition to the Protestants had increased 
to such an extent that the people were on the whole 
glad that their new sovereign was a Catholic. In many 
places they turned the Protestant ministers out of the 
churches and restored the priests and the service of 
Rome. 

The queen did not leave the people long in doubt as 
to her course. One of her first acts was to appoint 
Bishop Gardiner Chancellor. The Reformers at once 
saw that evil days were at hand. Many of them left 
the country and took refuge in Scotland, in Switzer- 
land, and in Protestant Germany. Cranmer's advice 
being asked by some of his friends, he advised them to 
fly. They urged him to take measures for his own 
safety, but he answered that it was his duty to remain 
at his post. 

The queen proceeded slowly, and with some degree 
of caution. She violated her promise to the Suffolk 
men, and entirely changed the religion of the country, 
but she was slow to proceed to violence. She declared 
that it was her desire that her people should be brought 
to adopt her faith by mild measures. She commanded 
all her subjects to live together peaceably, abstaining 
from religious quarrels, and,, said it was not her inten- 
tion to compel any of them to change their faith. She 



THE ENGLISH MARTYRS. 463 

was soon joined by Cardinal Pole, who came as the 
Pope's Legate to complete the work of restoring the 
religion of Rome. Pole also declared himself opposed 
to severity. He came, he said, not to condemn, but to 
win the people back to their old religion. 

More decisive measures followed, in spite of these 
deceitful protestations. The Protestant bishops were 
deprived of their sees. Tfye marriages which the 
clergy and the members of the religious orders had 
contracted were declared illegal, and their children 
were proclaimed bastards. A number of prominent 
Protestant clergymen were apprehended, and were con- 
fronted with Romish priests, ostensibly for the purpose 
of converting them, but really to intimidate them. 
Finding it impossible to make them forsake their faith, 
they were committed to prison. Latimer, Ridley, and 
Cranmer were arrested, and imprisoned, and the nation 
was given abundant assurance that dark days were in 
store for it. Gardiner was the leading spirit in these 
severities, and, though he was afterwards surpassed in 
cruelty by his associates, he merits, and should receive 
his full share of the responsibility for the sorrow which 
fell upon England. 

The persecution was begun by the burning of John 
Rogers at Smithfield, for denying Transubstantiation, 
and affirming that the Church of Rome was the Church 
of Antichrist. He was followed by Laurence Saun- 
ders, who was burnt for denying Transubstantiation. 
John Hooper, the good Rowland Taylor, John Brad- 



464 CROSS AND CROWN. 

ford, and others were put to death by fire for similar 
offences. The persecutors did not stop here, however. 
They struck at higher victims next. Bishops Ridley 
and Latimer were brought to trial, condemned, and 
burned at Oxford at the same stake. A feeling of 
general horror pervaded the land in consequence of 
these cruelties, and the people saw that they were sold 
once more, bound hand and foot, to cruel and persecut- 
ing Rome. The Romish thirst for blood was not 
satisfied with distinguished victims only. It included 
many of humble station whose names cannot all be 
mentioned here, and carried sorrow and dismay into all 
classes of the population. The humblest peasant as 
well as the bishop was hunted out, and made to feel 
the wrath of Rome. They did not obtrude themselves 
upon the notice of the authorities. The priests hunted 
for them, and dragged them forth to answer for their 
convictions. Father Persons, a Romish writer of the 
time, says : " Artificers, craftsmen, spinsters, and like 
people, came to answer for themselves before their 
bishops ; though never so ignorant or opposite among 
themselves, yet every one would die for his opinions ; 
no reason to the contrary, no persuasion, no argument, 
no inducements, no threats, no fair means, no foul, 
would serve, nor the present terror of fire itself; — and 
the more the pastors entreated with them by any of 
the aforesaid means, the worse they were." 

" The crime for which almost all the Protestants 
were condemned," says Hume, "was their refusal to 



THE ENGLISH MARTYRS. 465 

acknowledge the real presence. Gardiner, who had 
vainly expected that a few examples would strike a 
terror into the Reformers, finding the work daily mul- 
tiplying upon him, devolved the invidious office on 
others, chiefly on Bonner, a man of profligate manners, 
and of a brutal character, who seemed to rejoice in the 
torments of the sufferers. He sometimes whipped the 
prisoners with his own hands, till he was tired with 
the violence of the exercise ; he tore out the beard of 
a weaver who refused to relinquish his religion ; and 
that he might give him a specimen of burning, he held 
his hand to the candle till the sinews and veins shrunk 
and burst. 

" The persons condemned to these punishments were 
not convicted of teaching, or dogmatizing, contrary to 
the established religion ; they were seized merely on 
suspicion ; and articles being offered to them to sub- 
scribe, they were immediately, upon their refusal, con- 
demned to the flames. These instances of barbarity, 
so unusual in the nation, excited horror; the constancy 
of the martyrs excited admiration ; and as men have 
a principle of equity engraven in their minds, which 
even false religion is not able totally to obliterate, they 
were shocked to see persons of probity, of honor, of pious 
dispositions, exposed to punishments more severe than 
were inflicted on the greatest ruffians for crimes sub- 
versive of civil society. Each martyrdom was equiva- 
lent to a hundred sermons against Popery; and men 
either avoided such horrid spectacles, or returned from 

30 



466 CROSS AND 'CROWN. 

them full of a violent, though secret indignation against 
the persecutors. Repeated orders were sent from the 
council to quicken the diligence of the magistrates in 
searching out heretics ; and in some places the gentry 
were constrained to countenance by their presence 
those barbarous executions. The Court finding that 
Bonner, however shameless and savage, would not bear 
alone the whole infamy, soon threw off the mask, and 
the unrelenting temper of the queen, as well as of the 
king, appeared without control. A bold step was even 
taken towards introducing the Inquisition into Eng- 
land. As the bishop's courts, though extremely arbi- 
trary, and not confined by any ordinary forms of law, 
appeared not to be invested with sufficient power, a com- 
mission was appointed, by authority of the queen's pre- 
rogative, more effectually to extirpate heresy. Twenty- 
one persons were named; but any three were armed with 
the powers of the whole. The commission runs in these 
terms : 6 That since many false rumors were published 
among the subjects, and many heretical opinions were 
also spread among them, the commissioners were to in- 
quire into those, either by presentments, by witnesses, 
or any other political way they could devise, and to 
search after all heresies ; the bringers in, the sellers, the 
readers of all heretical books ; they were to examine and 
punish all misbehaviours or negligences in any church 
or chapel ; and to try all priests that did not preach the 
sacrament of the altar ; all persons that did not hear 
Mass, or come to their parish church to service, that 



THE ENGLISH MARTYRS. 467 

would not go in processions, or did not take holy bread 
or holy water; and if they found that any did obstinately 
persist in such heresies, they were to put them into the 
hands of their ordinaries, to be punished according to 
the spiritual laws ; giving the commissioners full power 
to proceed as their discretions and consciences should 
direct them, and to use all such means as they would 
invent for the searching of the premises, empowering 
them also to call before them such witnesses as they 
pleased, and to force them to make oath of such things 
as might discover what they sought after.' 

" To bring the methods of proceeding in England 
still nearer to the practice of the Inquisition, letters 
were written to Lord North and others, enjoining them 
to put i to the torture such obstinate persons as would 
not confess, and there to order them at their discretion. 
Secret spies also, and informers were employed, accord- 
ing to the practice of that infamous tribunal. Instruc- 
tions were given to the justices of the peace, ' that they 
should call secretly before them one or two honest 
persons within their limits, or more, at their discretion, 
and command them by oath or otherwise, that they 
shall learn and search out such persons as shall evil 
behave themselves in church, or idly, or shall despise 
openly by words the king's or queen's proceedings, .or 
go about to make any commotion, or tell any seditious 
tales or news,' etc. In some respects this tyrannical 
edict even exceeded the oppressions of the Inquisition, 
by introducing into every part of Government the same 



468 CROSS AND CROWN. 

iniquities which that tribunal practises for the extirpa- 
tion of heresy only."* 

The cruelties which Hume has thus grouped to- 
gether extended over a period of three years. Two 
hundred and seventy-seven persons were burnt alive 
for heresy during this bloody period. Among these 
were five bishops, twenty-one clergymen, eight lay 
gentlemen, eighty-four tradesmen, one hundred hus- 
bandmen, servants and laborers, fifty-five women, and 
four children. 

In the midst of this persecution the brutal Gardiner 
died. His work was taken up, and carried on with 
vigor by his associates who remained behind. The 
queen, soured by her unfortunate marriage, and a 
mere puppet in the hands of the priests, was one of 
the principal instigators and promoters of the cruelties 
which have earned her the name of " Bloody Mary." 

In the year 1556, Mary and her Popish supporters 
put into execution a plot they had long had in contem- 
plation. Mary had never forgiven Archbishop Cran- 
mer for the part he had taken in her mothers divorce, 
or for his services to the cause of the Reformation. He 
had been forced against his judgment to side with the 
party of Lady Jane Grey, and had thus rendered him- 
self amenable to the penalty of treason. Had this 
been his only offence, however, the queen could and 
would have forgiven it; but her vengeance and her 

* The History of England. By David Hume (Lippincott & Co's. 
edition), vol. iii., pp. 421-423, 424, 425. 



TEE ENGLISH MARTYRS. 469 

bigotry were too strong to be overcome. She had long 
designed the archbishop for her victim, and now his 
time had come. Yet in order that her vengeance 
might be more complete, and that Eome should have 
a share in it, she resolved to punish him for heresy 
rather than for treason. Cranmer was cited by the 
Pope to appear at Eome to answer to the charge of 
heresy. He was kept a close prisoner at Oxford by 
the* Government, and was not able to go to Eome 
even had he desired to do so. Thereupon he was 
condemned by the Papal Court as contumacious. 

The queen at once sent Bonner, Bishop of London, 
and Thirleby, Bishop of Ely, to Oxford, to degrade the 
primate from his episcopal dignity. The ceremony of 
degradation was performed by them with great minute- 
ness, and Bonner went to lengths which his compan- 
ion could not approve, to humiliate the archbishop, 
who was finally clad in a threadbare gown, such as 
was worn by the yeomen of the land, and a towns- 
man's cap, and sent back to prison. 

We have spoken of the gentleness of Cranmer's dis- 
position. Joined to this was a natural timidity, which 
he had often to struggle with. His enemies were well 
aware of this quality, and they resolved to make it the 
means of covering him with infamy. After the pro- 
ceedings at Oxford he was kept a close prisoner, but 
was treated with more kindness and consideration than 
he had experienced at any period of his captivity. 
He had wished to die with his friends, Latimer and 



470 CROSS AND GROWN'. 

Ridley, feeling sure that their example and companion- 
ship would be a powerful support and comfort to him ; 
but he had been left to witness their fate, and had 
been kept a captive until the idea " that he was alone, 
forsaken of man, and perhaps of God, began to wear 
into the firmness of a many-sided susceptible nature." 
The cruel men by whom he was surrounded, had kept 
a vigilant watch over him, and had been quick to 
detect this feeling. They resolved to make use of it 
to induce him to recant his doctrines. He was Arch- 
bishop of Canterbury, the primate and father of the 
Eeformed Church of England, and his recantation 
would be of the greatest importance to them. It would 
not only degrade him in the eyes of his followers, but 
it would do much to unsettle their constancy. The 
priests meant that the archbishop should die; but 
they were determined that he should die with the 
bitter knowledge that he had deserted his faith for 
nothing. They induced him by the kindness with 
which he was treated, to believe that they sincerely 
desired to serve him, and having thus won his con- 
fidence, they induced him to believe that he would not 
only receive pardon of the queen and the Church, but 
would be advanced to other dignities if he would sign 
a confession acknowledging as false the doctrines which 
he had taught against the Church of Rome. His natu- 
ral timidity now rose up against him. The love of 
life and the dread of the tortures by which his friends 
had died were strong in him, and .in a moment of weak- 



THE ENGLISH MARTYRS. 471 

ness he yielded to the temptation, and, signed a confes- 
sion acknowledging the doctrines of the papal suprem- 
acy and Transubstantiation. The Romanists, overjoyed 
at their triumph, declared that he had yielded every- 
thing. " The probability is," says Southey, " that he 
signed an equivocal recantation; and that the other 
papers, five in number, wherein he was made to ac- 
knowledge in the most explicit terms, the doctrines 
which he had repeatedly confuted, and to vilify him- 
self as a mischief-maker and blasphemer, were fabri- 
cated by Bonner's directions. The circumstances are 
altogether suspicious as well as perplexed ; and nothing 
appears certain, but that he submitted, under a promise 
that his life should be spared, and that he should pass 
it, if he did not wish for wealth or dignity, in a private 
station, and wherever he listed." 

A month was suffered to pass after the recantation, 
during which time the archbishop was allowed to re- 
main in suspense as to his fate, which had been fully 
decided upon beforehand. It was meant that this period 
should be spent by him in the agony of humiliation, 
for his persecutors knew that so pure and sensitive a 
nature as his must feel keeely the sin he had committed. 
But this period which was so full of sorrow to Cranmer 
was also of incalculable value to him. He had time 
to review calmly the course which he had pursued, and 
to see what sorrow and injury his cowardice would 
bring upon the Church. His better nature awoke, and 
it pleased God to give him in answer to his prayers 



472 GROSS AND CROWN. 

the strength which he did not naturally possess. He 
did suffer — quite as much as his enemies had meant 
that he should, but to a different purpose. His remorse 
for his recantation, his desertion of the faith of which 
he was now more than ever convinced, was bitter indeed, 
but it was wholesome. He was not informed of the in- 
. tentions of the Court concerning him, but various cir- 
cumstances caused him to feel sure that he was to be 
sacrificed to the vengeance of the queen. His resolution 
was taken accordingly. 

On the 21st of March, 1556, he was taken from his 
prison to die. It was intended that the sermon, which 
was usually delivered on such occasions, should be 
preached at the stake, but the day being wet and 
windy, it was preached in St. Mary's Church. It was 
expected that he would publicly repeat his recantation 
in the presence of the multitude which had assembled 
to see him die, and the sermon was in accordance with 
this expectation. 

The archbishop was grave and patient in his de- 
meanor, though his countenance bore faithful witness 
to the depth and sincerity of his penitence. Even the 
Romanists pitied him. John Fox thus describes him : 
" Cranmer in all this meantime, with what grief of 
mind he stood hearing this sermon ; the outward shews 
of his body and countenance did better express than 
any man can declare ; one while lifting up his hands 
and eyes unto heaven, and then again for shame letting 
them drop to the earth. A man might have seen the 



THE ENGLISH MARTYRS, 473 

very image and shape of perfect sorrow lively in liim 
expressed. More than twenty several times the tears 
gushed out abundantly, dropping down from his fatherly 
face. Those which were present testify that they never 
saw, in any child, more tears than brast out from him 
at that time. It is marvellous what commiseration and 
pity moved all men's hearts that beheld so heavy 
a countenance, and such abundance of tears in an old 
man of so reverend dignity. Withal he ever retained 
a quiet and grave behaviour." 

That this grief was not caused by the fear of death 
is evident from the firmness with which he met his 
fate. It was an agonizing sorrow for his denial of his 
faith, a sorrow which had not one element of weakness 
in it. He had triumphed over his fears, and we may 
be sure that had the queen in all sincerity offered him 
life and liberty, on that memorable day, on condition 
of his adhering to his recantation, Cranmer would have 
done justice to himself, and have sealed his faith with 
his blood. 

When his time came to speak, Cranmer stood up in 
the church and acknowledged his duty of submission 
to the queen and the laws of the land ; but this sub- 
mission he said extended no farther than to submit to 
their commands, and. bear patiently whatever hardships 
they might lay upon him. His duty to God required 
that he should speak the truth on all occasions, and not 
basely deny the doctrines which God had committed to 
his Church. "And now," he went on, "forasmuch as 



474 CROSS AND CROWN. 

I am come to the last end of my life, whereupon hangeth 
all my life past and all my life to come, either to live 
with my Saviour Christ in joy, or else to be ever in 
pain with wicked devils in hell ; and I see before mine 
eyes presently either heaven" — and he pointed up- 
wards with his hand — " or hell," and he pointed down- 
wards, "ready to swallow me, I shall therefore declare 
unto you my very faith, without color or dissimulation; 
for now it is no time to dissemble. I believe in God the 
Father Almighty, Maker of heaven and earth ; in every 
article of the Catholic faith ; every word and sentence 
taught by our Saviour Christ, his apostles, and prophets, 
in the Old and New Testaments. 

" And now I come to the great thing that troubleth 
my conscience more than anything that ever I said or 
did in my life, and that is the setting abroad of writings 
contrary to the truth, which here I renounce and refuse, 
as things written with my own hand as contrary to the 
truth which I thought in my heart, and written for 
fear of death to save my life, if it might be ; and that 
is, all such bills and papers as I have written and signed 
with my hand since my degradation, wherein I have 
written many things untrue ; and forasmuch as my 
hand offended in writing contrary to my heart, my 
hand therefore shall first be punished; for if I may 
come to the fire, it shall be the first burnt. As for the 
Pope, I utterly refuse him as Christ's enemy and Anti- 
christ, with all his false doctrine ; and as for the Sacra- 
ment, I believe as I have taught in my book against 
the Bishop of Winchester." 



THE ENGLISH MARTYRS. 475 

The Romanists were furious at the words of the 
archbishop. By this noble confession, the sincerity 
and earnestness of which were evident to every listener, 
the archbishop had redeemed himself, and had resumed 
his place in the Reformed Church of England. The 
Romanists interrupted him with cries and reproaches, 
and refusing to allow him to proceed, dragged him to 
the stake, where he died with the firmness and con- 
stancy of a faithful Christian man, thus worthily closing 
a great and useful life. Rome was again baffled, and 
the cause of Christianity was again victorious in the 
triumph of its martyr. Peter denied his Master, in a 
moment of weakness ; yet he glorified Him in the end. 
Cranmer did likewise. • 

The martyrdom of Cranmer was the most injurious 
to the Romish Church of any that took place during 
this reign. Thousands had witnessed his repentance, 
and Bonner's declarations to the contrary could not 
shake their faith in its sincerity. Tens of thousands 
had seen the patient heroism with which he suffered 
at the stake. The whole land mourned for him, and 
resented the brutal cruelty with which he had been 
put to death. Even those who held to the Romish 
faith were horror-stricken at the tragedy. 

The blood of the archbishop, however, only made 
the persecutors more cruel. " Cranmer alone hitherto 
had suffered after recantation," says Froude; "to 
others pardon had continued to be offered to the last 
moment. But this poor mercy was now extinguished. 



476 CROSS AND CROWN. 

A man in Hampshire, named Bembridge, exclaimed at 
the point of execution that he would submit; a form 
was produced on the spot, which Bembridge signed, 
and the sheriff, Sir Richard Pexall, reprieved him by 
his own authority. But a letter of council came 
instantly to Pexall, that 'the queen's majesty could 
not but find it very strange ' that he had saved from 
punishment a man condemned for heresy ; the execu- 
tion was to proceed out of hand ; and c if the prisoner 
continued in the Catholic faith, as he pretended, some 
discreet and learned man might be with him in his 
death, for the aiding of him to die God's servant/ 
Bembridge was accordingly burnt, and the sheriff, for 
the lenity he had dared to show, was committed to the 
Fleet. Whole detachments of men and women were 
again slaughtered in London ; and the queen, exasper- 
ated at the determination with which the populace 
cheered the sufferers with their sympathy, sent out 
a proclamation forbidding her subjects to approach, 
touch, speak to, or comfort heretics on their way to 
execution, under pain of death. Shortly after, a con- 
gregation of Protestants were detected at a prayer 
meeting in a field near the city; thirteen were taken 
as prisoners before Bonner, and seven were burnt at 
Smithfield together on the 28th of June, 1558. The 
people replied to the queen's menaces by crowding about 
the stake with passionate demonstrations of affection, 
and Thomas Bentham, a friend of Lever the preacher, 
when the fagots were lighted, stood out in the 



THE ENGLISH MARTYRS. 477 

presence of the throng, and cried : c We know that they 
are the people of God, and therefore we cannot choose 
but wish well to them, and say, God strengthen them. 
God Almighty, for Christ's sake, strengthen them.' 
The multitude shouted^ in reply, ' Amen, Amen/ 

" Alarmed himself, this time, at the display of emo- 
tion, Bonner durst not outrage the metropolis with the 
deaths of the remaining six. Yet not to let them es- 
cape him, he tried them privately in his own house at 
Fulham, and burnt them at Brentford at night in the 
darkness." * 

The people of England took up the cause of the 
martyrs warmly. Each case of persecution made fresh 
converts for the Reformation. A Church that was as 
bloodthirsty and cruel deserved all that the Reformers 
had said against it, and the people came to hate it, and 
to wish for its downfall. The queen, who had begun 
her reign amidst the rejoicings of her subjects, was 
now hated beyond measure. On all 'sides she was 
cursed with a bitterness which words have no power to 
express. She was fully conscious of this, and this 
knowledge caused her no little suffering. In spite of 
her crimes, it is impossible not to pity her at this 
period, for she drained the bitter cup of retribution to 
the very dregs. Her husband grew tired of her, and 
went back to Spain, leaving her to suffer the keenest 
pangs of jealousy and the consciousness of being an 

* History of England. By J. A. Eroude (Scribner's edition), 
vol. vi. pp. 479, 480. 



478 CROSS AND CROWN. 

unloved and neglected wife. She supposed herself 
pregnant, when in reality the symptoms which she 
thus interpreted were but the signs of an incurable 
dropsy. The people were not slow to give her 
abundant evidences of their hatred of her. Libels 
and lampoons, ribald ballads upon her supposed preg- 
nancy were dropped in her way where she could not 
fail to see them. As she read them she would give 
way to bursts of despairing fury, and then go to her 
chamber to weep her heart out in the bitterness of her 
suffering. There she would sit for hours on the floor, 
her knees drawn up to her face. Then rousing .her- 
self, she would wander restlessly about the palace 
galleries, or write to her husband those sorrowful, tear- 
blotted letters which had no power to move his heart 
of adamant. Yet all this while the fires blazed through- 
out England, and the groans of the martyrs went up 
to Heaven unceasingly. 

At length on the 14th of November, 1558, Queen 
Mary died, and a few hours later Cardinal Pole, her 
chief coadjutor in the work of cruelty, followed her. 
The news was greeted in all parts of the kingdom 
with demonstrations of joy. Bonfires blazed, bells 
were rung, and men thanked God that the tyrant was 
removed from over them. 

Mary was succeeded by her sister Elizabeth, the 
daughter of Anne Boleyn, and by education and in- 
clination a Protestant. The people hailed her acces- 
sion with unaffected delight, for Mary had sickened 



THE ENGLISH MARTYRS. 479 

them of the religion of Rome. The new queen's first 
act was to make Sir William Cecil her principal 
Secretary of State. It was evident to all that Roman- 
ism was to find no favor with the new sovereign. 
When preparations were being made for her coronation, 
she refused to allow the host to be elevated before her, 
and the Archbishop of York refused to perform the 
ceremony of crowning her. It was his office to do so, 
as the See of Canterbury had been made vacant by the 
death of Cardinal Pole. All the other bishops, except 
the Bishop of Carlisle, refused, in like manner, to per- 
form this ceremony. 

Elizabeth acted with great firmness and forbearance. 
She was advised to punish the disobedient bishops, but 
she replied, " Let us not imitate our sister's example, 
but rather show that our Reformation tendeth to peace, 
and not to cruelty." She at once summoned the 
bishops before her, and commanded them to acknow- 
ledge her supremacy and remove from the Church the 
superstitious and corrupt practices which had crept 
into it during the preceding reign. Bishop Kitchen, 
of LandafF, obeyed her command, but the others, thir- 
teen in number, refused to acknowledge her supremacy, 
and declared they would make no changes in the 
Church. The queen at once deprived them of 
their sees. They believed that by their refusal they 
would seriously embarrass the queen, who would not 
be able to fill their places with others whose consecra- 
tion the people would acknowledge as valid. They 



480 CROSS AND CROWN. 

were greatly mistaken, however, for Elizabeth recalled 
from their exile in Switzerland three bishops who had 
taken refuge there when Mary began her work of 
blood. They were Barlow, Scory, and Miles Coverdale, 
the translator of the Bible. These three laid their 
hands on the excellent Dr. Parker, who had been chap- 
lain to Anne Boleyn, and consecrated him, the queen 
having bestowed upon him the Primacy. 

Under the wise guidance of the men of Elizabeth's 
choice the work of restoring the Church of England to 
the. Reformers was carried on. New bishops were con- 
secrated to fill the vacant sees, and the parish churches 
were gradually placed in the hands of the Reformed 
clergy. The errors of doctrine were thrown out, and 
the religion of Rome was effectually driven out of 
England. There was no persecution of the Catholics. 
They were treated with forbearance. They, on their 
part, however, harassed the queen during her entire 
reign with threats and conspiracies. Some of these 
plots had for their object the transfer of the crown to 
Mary Queen of Scots and the restoration of the Rom- 
ish religion. Others designed the crown for Philip II., 
and had they been successful would have made Eng- 
land simply a Spanish province. All had for their 
object the death of Elizabeth and the destruction of 
Protestantism. The Jesuits were especially active, 
and were anxious to repeat in England the horrors 
they had perpetrated upon the Continent. The genius, 
tact, and firmness of Elizabeth and her ministers 
carried the kingdom and the Church in safety through 



THE ENGLISH MARTYRS. 481 

these trying days. Domestic insurrection was put 
down with the strong hand, the Spanish Armada was 
defeated and the danger of invasion averted, and the 
conspirators were detected and punished. 

On the Continent Rome and the Jesuits were mak- 
ing martyrs by the score. In the humble Vaudois 
Valleys they were waging a merciless war upon the 
descendants of the Apostolic Christians, burning and 
killing wherever they had the power and the oppor- 
tunity. They were destroying the prosperity of the 
Low Countries, and cursing them with -ruin and misery 
worse than death. They were ravaging France, and 
staining the fame of that beautiful land with the blood 
shed on the. terrible day of St. Bartholomew. Yet in 
spite of all this they found time to scheme for the ruin 
of England. That they did not succeed in their 
efforts was not their fault. 

The Reformation was now successful. We cannot 
follow it through the reigns of Elizabeth and her suc- 
cessors, for that would be to trace the history of the 
Established Church of England rather than to note 
the struggles of Protestantism. We must pass over a 
long period, during which the Romanists never entirely 
ceased their plottings, or totally abandoned their hope 
of regaining England. 

When James II. ascended the throne at the death 
of his brother, Charles II., in 1685, a general feeling 
of uneasiness took possession of the nation. He was 
an avowed Romanist, and one of the most bigoted 

31 



482 CROSS AND CROWN. 

monarchs that ever ruled a State. His ardent desire 
was to become as absolute in England as Louis XI V. 
was in Fr-ance, and to restore the Romish religion in 
his dominions. He was thoroughly under the influ- 
ence of the Jesuits, who had another hold on him 
through his mistress, whose connection with the king 
they encouraged for the sake of the power it brought 
them. The Pope was well satisfied with James' inten- 
tions, but he advised him to proceed cautiously. The 
king, however, was not as politic as the Pontiff. He 
attached little importance to his coronation oath, and 
violated the English Constitution in so many respects, 
that the people during his reign may be said to have 
had no liberties save what he chose to allow them. 
The Parliament submitted so tamely, that the king 
was encouraged to undertake the conquest of the 
Church. He met with a firm and dignified resistance 
from the clergy, a resistance which so exasperated him, 
that he put in force a series of measures which plainly 
showed that he meant to deprive the people of .their 
religious as well as of their civil liberties. The Eng- 
lish had not forgotten the cruelties of Bloody Mary, 
nor the subsequent efforts of the Romanists to destroy 
the Church of England, and they were now given 
abundant evidence that if the king did succeed in 
restoring the power of the Pope, or the religion of 
Rome, it would be by the destruction of all that they 
held most dear on earth. There could be no doubt 
that a revival of Romanism in England meant also 
the introduction of Jesuitism and the Inquisition, and 



THE ENGLISH MARTYRS. 483 

the establishment of a reign of terror such as had fol- 
lowed the revocation of the Edict of Nantes in France. 
The Church was vigilant in sounding the alarm, and 
from every pulpit in the land the people were warned 
against the danger which threatened them. Not that 
the clergy were disloyal to their faithless king, but 
that they took care that none should be ignorant of 
the evils which would follow the reintroduction of 
Romanism into England. 

The king had greatly mistaken the character of his 
countrymen. England was now a Protestant country, 
and a land in which the sentiment of civil and reli- 
gious freedom was too deeply implanted to be rooted 
up. The king, who was personally popular at his 
accession to the throne, became odious to the nation. 
He persisted in his unlawful and impolitic course, how- 
ever, and at last the whole nation rose against him, 
drove him out of England, and gave the crown to his 
son-in-law and daughter, William and Mary, the Prot- 
estant Prince and Princess of Orange. 

With James II. fell the last hope of Rome. The 
accession of William and Mary to the throne placed 
the Church of England beyond the power of the Pope. 
It gained a new hold on the popular attachment by its 
courageous defence of the liberties of the nation against 
King James, and the crimes of the Romish Church in 
Continental Europe, which now continually horrified 
mankind, were a constant warning to the*English to 
cherish and defend the faith which made them secure 
against such ills. 




II. 

LORD COBHAM. 

N the County of Kent, four miles from the city 
of Kochester, is the pretty town of Cowling, the 
chief attraction of which is its ruined castle. 
In the feudal days of England this was one of 
the strongest of all the baronial holds of the kingdom. 
It had been for many generations the seat of the noble 
and powerful house of Cobham. During the early part 
of the reign of Henry V. it was held by Sir John Old- 
castle, who had married Joan the last heiress of the 
line of Cobham. Oldcastle held the place in right of 
his wife, and sat in the House of Peers as Lord Cob- 
ham, a name by which he came to be generally known 
and beloved. 

Lord Cobham had been a soldier in his younger days, 
and had fought with great distinction in the French and 
Welsh wars. He had been a friend of King Henry IV., 
who appreciated his sterling qualities and the good ser- 
vice he had done, and he was also a friend and, as the 
rumor goes, a companion of the graceless " Prince Hal " 
in some of his mad pranks about Gad's Hill. When 
the young prince came to the throne as Henry V. this 
friendship remained unbroken. But Lord Cobham was 

484 



LORD COBHAM. 435 

not only a soldier and a friend of the king. He was 
the friend and benefactor of the poor and distressed, 
and his kindnesses, which were innumerable, soon 
gained for him from the common people the name of 
" the good Lord Cobham." He was a disciple of Wycliffe, 
a receiver of the principles of the Reformation. He was 
a constant and devoted student of the Bible, and he 
found there " the true light " which enabled him to 
see and to avoid the errors of Rome. He made no effort 
to conceal his opinions, but openly avowed them. When 
the Romish prelates began to persecute the Lollards, as 
the followers of ° Wycliffe were called, Cobham received 
the latter at Cowling Castle, and gave them shelter and 
protection. He not only defended and encouraged these 
preachers of the truth, but he was an uncompromising 
enemy of the monks, being a constant witness of their 
enormities. His outspoken dislike of them drew upon 
him the enmity of the Primate, Thomas Arundel, Arch- 
bishop of Canterbury, who was the patron and promoter 
of almost every monkish enterprise in the land. More- 
over, Cobham boldly and vehemently denounced the 
new system of burning men alive for heresy, which 
Arundel had borrowed from the Romish Church on the 
Continent and introduced into England. It was a 
punishment unknown until then to English law, and 
utterly opposed to the English spirit of justice, and 
Cobham sharply condemned it as a devilish device, not 
to be justified from the Word of God. Between Arundel 
and himself the contest was long and bitter, and was at 



486 CROSS AND CROWN. 

length brought to a crisis by the honest knight telling 
the archbishop to his teeth what he thought of his new 
device for killing men. 

Arundel was not a man to forgive a speech like this. 
Moreover, he was a bigoted priest, thoroughly devoted 
to the interests of his Church, and willing to sacrifice 
even his country for the cause of Rome, so that his re- 
ligious zeal as well as- his personal hatred prompted him 
to attempt the ruin of the bold champion of Lollardism. 
He accordingly drew up a charge against Cobham, 
basing it upon his opposition to the Church of Rome, 
which required unqualified submission and obedience 
from every one. He presented this charge to the king, 
and asked him to proceed against Cobham as a dangerous 
heretic, supporting his request by the entreaties of other 
prelates and a number of priests and monks. The king 
was at first unwilling to proceed against his friend, 
whose noble nature he knew and admired, and he re- 
quested the prelates to try to reason with Lord Cobham 
before undertaking severer measures. 

It so happened that, on that very day, a pile of 
" heretical books " was burned at St. Paul's Cross, in 
London. The primate presided over the ceremony, and 
in a sermon to the people explained to them why the 
books were burned. One of these books was found to 
be the property of Lord Cobham, having been seized at 
the limner's in Paternoster-row, whither it had been 
sent to be illuminated. It was at once handed to 
Arundel, who, in high glee, took it to the king, and 



LORD COBHAM. 437 

called his attention to certain passages in it which were 
particularly severe on the Romish doctrines. The king 
read the passages, and at once declared that they were 
the most pernicious he had ever seen. Sending for 
Cobham, he demanded of him why he had kept such a 
book. Cobham replied that he had never read more 
than one or two leaves in it, and did not really know 
the nature of its contents. The king then censured 
him for his opposition to the Church, and urged him to 
acknowledge himself guilty of the offence charged 
against him, and to submit, as an obedient child, to his 
mother the Holy Church. The knight at once made 
him this noble reply, speaking in a tone loud enough 
for all present to hear him : 

" You, most worthy prince, I am always prompt and 
willing to obey ; unto you (next my eternal God) owe 
I my whole obedience ; and submit thereunto, as I have 
ever done, all that I* have either of fortune or nature, 
ready at all times to fulfil whatsoever ye shall in the 
Lord command me. But as touching the Pope and his 
spirituality, I owe them neither suit nor service ; forso- 
much as I know him by the Scriptures to be the great 
Antichrist, the son of perdition, the open adversary of 
God, and the abomination standing in the holy place." 

Henry turned angrily away from his friend, and 
said to Arundel that he might proceed against the 
knight to the very extremity. 

Lord Cobham, seeing his danger, at once left London, 
and went back to Cowling Castle, which he put into a 



488 CROSS AND CROWN. 

state of defence, being determined to resist with force 
any effort which the archbishop might make to arrest 
him. He knew that he could expect no mercy from 
the priests after his bold denunciation of the Pope, 
and that he would have to rely upon his own arm 
and his popularity with the people to protect him from 
the wrath of the Church. His castle was strong, 
his people were devoted to him, and he was more than 
a match for Arundel. He did not intend to be the 
victim of the priests if he could help it. The arch- 
bishop was conscious of his strength, and finding it im- 
possible to serve upon him a summons to appear before 
the ecclesiastical court, caused his citation to be affixed 
to the great gates of Rochester Cathedral. This docu- 
ment was twice torn down by friends of Cobham, and 
the archbishop demanded of the king the arrest of 
the knight, upon pain of incurring the censure of the 
Church. 

Henry V. was a man of noble and generous nature, 
a brave and gallant prince, but he was also profoundly 
superstitious. He had delivered himself over to the 
priests, and was ruled by them with such adroitness, 
that he was in religious matters but little more than a 
puppet in their hands. Cobham knew this, and knew 
that the king would not dare to refuse the demand of 
the archbishop. If further resistance were attempted, 
he would be placed in the position of a rebel against 
his king, and the brave old soldier shrank from such a 
prospect. He accordingly determined to go in person 



LORD COBHAM. 489 

to the king, and demand justice at his hands. He first 
wrote a paper, which he called, " The Christian Belief 
of the Lord Cobhain," which he meant should be his 
justification. He began with the Apostles' Creed, and 
followed this with a concise statement of his belief. 
He declared that the Church was divided into three 
parts, the Saints in Heaven, the Souls in Purgatory (if, 
said he, there be any such place as Purgatory taught 
in the Scriptures), and the Faithful on Earth. The 
latter, or Church Militant, he said, was divided, by the 
just ordinance of God, into the three estates of Priest- 
hood, Knighthood, and the Commons, who, by the will 
of God, ought to aid, and not to destroy, each other. 
The duty of the priests was that, set apart from the 
contamination of the world, they should conform their 
lives to the examples of Christ and his Apostles, ever- 
more occupied in preaching and teaching the Scrip- 
tures purely, and in giving wholesome examples of 
good living to the other two degrees, more modest, also 
more loving, gentle, and lowly in spirit should they 
be, than any other people. The knighthood, he said, 
ought to defend the pure word of God, and oppose the 
introduction or execution of any measures calculated to 
destroy its purity. " They ought also to preserve God's 
people from oppressors, tyrants and thieves ; and to see 
the clergy supported, so long as they teach purely, 
pray rightly, and minister the sacraments freely. And 
if they see them do otherwise, they are bound by the 
law of office to compel them to change their doings." 



490 CROSS AND CROWN. 

The duty of the common people was to be obedient 
and submissive to their lawful superiors in all things 
not contrary to God's word, and to be industrious and 
frugal. He then professed his full belief that the 
body and blood of Christ were verily and indeed con- 
tained in the Sacrament of the altar, under the simili- 
tudes of bread and wine ; that the law of God was 
most true and perfect ; and that they which did not so 
follow it in their faith and works (at one time or 
another) could not be saved ; " whereas he that 
seeketh it in faith, accepteth it, learneth it, delighteth 
therein, and performeth it in love, shall taste for it the 
felicity of everlasting innocency. Finally, that God 
will ask no more of a Christian believer, in this life, 
than to obey the precepts of this most blessed law. If 
any prelate require more, or any other kind of obe- 
dience than this, he contemneth Christ, exalting him- 
self above God, and so becometh an open Antichrist." 
He begged the king to cause this confession to be 
examined by the wisest and most just men in the 
realm, so that it might be found that he was a true and 
faithful Christian man. If they should find him in 
error, and could teach him a better belief by the Word 
of God, he declared he would reverently adopt their 
teachings. 

With this paper, Lord Cobham went to London and 
sought the presence of the king. Henry had been 
thoroughly won over by the priests, and he received 
his old friend with sternness, refused to receive his 



LORD COBHAM. 491 

paper, and ordered it to be delivered to the men who 
were to be his judges. Cobham then appealed to the 
law and practice of the kingdom in his behalf, and 
demanded to be tried by them for the offence charged 
against him, but his appeal was refused, and he was 
arrested and sent to the Tower to await his trial. 

During his imprisonment in the Tower, Cobham was 
treated kindly and with consideration by the Lieu- 
tenant, Sir Robert Morley. He was lodged in the Earl 
of Warwick's chamber, the most comfortable and con- 
venient apartment in the great fortress, and was 
allowed such comforts as he desired. Here he was 
visited by numerous monks and friars, who undertook 
to argue with him on the subject of religion. They 
were roughly handled by the knight, who was a better 
theologian and a keener debater than the best of them. 
Nevertheless, Lord Cobham felt that he was in the 
hands of his worst enemies, and at the mercy of a 
Church to which forgiveness is unknown. He there- 
fore prepared himself to undergo as a brave Christian 
man the trial through which he was to pass. 

Arundel, feeling sure that his victim could not escape 
him, took his leisure in bringing him to trial. The 
Consistory, or court of priests, met in the Chapterhouse 
of St Paul's Cathedral, and before this body the pris- 
oner was taken to be examined. The archbishop told 
him that having been charged with and found guilty 
of certain culpable heresies, he might even yet make 
his peace with the Church, and receive absolution if 



492 CROSS AND CROWN. 

he would humbly ask for it. In reply to this, the 
knight presented to the court a paper containing a 
written statement of his belief.. The archbishop took 
the paper and bade him stand aside while the judges 
consulted together concerning it. Presently he called 
him back and questioned him concerning his belief in 
the doctrines of Transubstantiation and auricular con- 
fession. Cobham replied that he had fully stated his 
views in the writing he had delivered to the court, and 
would say no more. 

" Sir John," said the archbishop, " beware what you 
do ! For if you answer not clearly to these things 
(especially at the time appointed you only for that 
purpose), the law of Holy Church is, that compelled 
once by a judge, we may openly proclaim you a 
heretic." 

" Do as ye think best," was the reply, " for I am at 
a point." 

To all their other questions he replied that he had 
fully expressed himself in his writing, and would say 
no more. 

This examination took place on a Saturday; and the 
wicked j udges, finding they could do nothing with him, 
sent him back to the Tower until the next Monday, 
telling him they would send him their questions in 
writing, and that he would have to answer them in 
the same way. These questions required him to state 
his belief in or rejection of the Romish doctrines of 
Transubstantiation, confession to and absolution from a 



LORD COB HAM. 493 

priest, the supremacy of the Pope as the successor of 
St. Peter, and the worship of saints and images and the 
performance of pilgrimages. 

The archbishop adjourned the court from St. Paul's 
to an obscure Dominican convent on Ludgate Hill, where, 
in the midst of priests and monks, he could treat his 
victim as he pleased. He filled the place with a crowd 
of his adherents, who brutally insulted the martyr as 
he was brought in under guard with their taunts and 
jeers. 

Lord Cobham was not dismayed at the sight of so 
many of his priestly foes assembled to sit in judgment 
on him. He felt bitterly the injustice with which he 
was being treated, and as he listened to the insults with 
which the cowardly mob greeted him, he gave way to 
an emotion " than which," says Southey, " nothing 
nobler in its kind hath been imagined in fiction, or 
recorded in history." 

Arundel opened the proceedings by again offering 
him absolution and mercy if he would seek it in the 
manner prescribed by the Church. Gobham turned to 
him indignantly, and exclaimed : 

" Nay, forsooth, will I not, for I never yet trespassed 
against you, and therefore I will not do it." Then 
falling on his knees, and clasping his hands and raising 
his eyes to heaven, he cried out with emotion : " I 
shrive me here unto Thee, my eternal, living God, that 
in my youth I offended Thee, Lord, most grievously 
in pride, wrath, and gluttony ; in covetousness and in 



494 CROSS AND CROWN. 

lechery! Many men have I hurt in mine anger, and 
done many other horrible sins. Good Lord, I ask Thee 
mercy." He burst into tears as he spoke. Then rising 
to his feet, he said, with a mighty voice : " Lo, good 
people, lo ! for the breaking of God's law and his com- 
mandments they never yet cursed me ! But for their 
own laws and traditions, most cruelly do they handle 
both me and other men. And, therefore, both they 
and their laws, by the promise of God, shall be utterly 
destroyed." 

This awful appeal and denunciation so astonished 
and startled the court that the judges were all silent. 
They looked at each other in amazement, and their 
consciences troubled them sorely. The archbishop was 
the first to recover his self-possession, and he resumed 
the examination, asking Cobham to state his belief. 

" I believe," was the intrepid reply, " fully and faith- 
fully in the universal laws of God. I believe that all 
is true which is contained in the holy sacred Scriptures 
of the Bible. Finally, I believe all that my Lord God 
would I should oelieve." 

A simple belief in the truths of the Bible, however, 
was not enough for the priests, since that was to reject 
their unlawful claims. The judges pressed him with 
questions concerning the material bread in the sacrament. 

" The Scriptures," he answered, " make no mention 
of this word material, and therefore my faith hath no- 
thing to do therewith. But this I say and believe, that 
it is Christ's body and bread." 



LORD COB HAM. 495 

Several here cried out : " It is a manifest heresy to 
say that it is bread after the sacramental words have 
been spoken." 

" St. Paul," said the prisoner, " was, I am sure, as 
wise as you, and more godly learned, and he called it 
bread ; c the bread that we break,' saith he, ' is it not 
the partaking of the body of Christ ? ' " 

The archbishop then stated to him what had been 
determined on this point by the Church of Rome and 
the " holy doctors." 

" I know none holier than Christ and His apostles," 
answered the knight ; " and as for that determination, it 
is none of theirs ; for it standeth not with the Scriptures, 
but manifestly against them. If it be the Church's, it 
hath been hers only since she received the great poison 
of worldly possessions. In your lordly laws and idle de- 
terminations, have I no belief. For ye be no part of 
Christ's holy Church, as your open deeds do show ; but 
ye are very Antichrists, openly set against His holy law 
and will. The laws ye have made are nothing to His 
glory, but only for your vain glory and abominable 
covetousness." 

The prior of the Carmelites sharply reproved him for 
judging his superiors. " Rash judgment," said he, 
" and right judgment all is one with you. So swift 
judges always are the learned scholars of Wycliflfe." 

" It is well sophistered of you, forsooth," replied Lord 
Cobham. " Preposterous are your judgments evermore. 
For, as the prophet Esay saith, ye judge evil good, and 



496 CROSS AND CROWN. 

good evil; and therefore the same prophet concludeth 
that, ' your ways are not God's ways, nor God's ways 
your w T ays.' And as for that virtuous man, WycliiFe, I 
shall say here, both before God and man, that before I 
knew that despised doctrine of his, I never abstained 
from sin. But since I learned therein to feel my Lord 
God, it hath otherwise, I trust, been with me. So 
much grace could I never find in all your glorious 
instructions." 

" It were not well with me," said the Carmelite, " if 
I had no grace to amend my life, till I heard the devil 
preach. St. Hierome saith, ' that he which seeketh 
such suspected masters, shall not find the midday light, 
but the midday devil.' " 

" Your fathers, the old Pharisees," returned Cobham, 
boldly, " ascribed Christ's miracles to Beelzebub and his 
doctrines to the devil ; and you, as their natural chil- 
dren, have still the selfsame judgment concerning his 
faithful followers. To judge you as you be, we need 
no farther go than to your own proper acts. Where 
do ye find in all God's law that ye shall thus sit in judg- 
ment of any Christian man, or yet give sentence upon 
any other man to death, as ye do here daily? No 
ground have ye in all the Scriptures, so lordly to take 
it upon you, but in Annas and Caiaphas, which sat thus 
upon Christ, and upon His apostles after His ascension." 

A lawyer here remarked that Christ judged Judas. 
Cobham was better learned in the Scriptures than this 
man of the law, and he answered, quickly : 



LORD GOB HAM. 497 

"Judas judged himself. Indeed, Christ said, 6 Woe 
unto him for that covetous act of his/ as he doth yet 
unto many of you; for since his venom was shed into 
the Church, ye never followed Christ.' , 

" What mean ye by that venom ? " asked the arch- 
bishop. 

" Your possessions and lordship," replied Lord Cob- 
ham ; " for then cried an angel in the air, as your own 
chronicles mention, c . Woe, woe, woe ! this day is venom 
shed into the Church of God ! ' Since that time, one 
Pope hath put down another, one hath poisoned another, 
and hath cursed another, one hath slain another, and 
done much more mischief, as all the chronicles tell. 
Let all men consider well this, that Christ was meek 
and merciful ; the Pope is proud and a tyrant ; Christ 
was poor and forgave ; the Pope is rich and a malicious 
manslayer, as his daily acts do prove him. Rome is the 
very nest of Antichrist, and out of that nest cometh 
all the disciples of him, of whom prelates, priests, and 
monks are the body, and these piled friars are the tail." 

The court felt that he was more than a match for 

them in argument, and they came at once to the questions 

upon his. answers to which hung his life. He openly 

and explicitly denied the Romish doctrines of the real 

presence, the worship of the virgin, the saints, and 

images, auricular confession, and pilgrimages. When 

he repudiated image- worship, a friar asked him if he 

would worship the cross on which Christ died. 

" Where is it ? " he asked, quickly. 
32 



498 



CROSS AND CROWN. 



" I put the case that it were here even now before 
you," said the friar. 

" This is a great wise man," said Lord Cobham, " to 
put me an earnest question of a thing, yet he himself 
knoweth not where the thing is. I ask you what 
worship should I do unto it ? " 

An ignorant clerk replied : " Such worship as Paul 
speaketh of, and that is this, ' God forbid that I should 
joy, but only in the cross of Christ Jesus.' " 

" This is a very cross," exclaimed Lord Cobham, 
spreading forth his arms ; " yea, and so much better 
than your cross of wood, in that it was created of God ; 
yet will I not seek to have it worshipped." 

" Sir," said the Bishop of London, " ye wote well 
that He died on a material cross." 

" Yea," answered the martyr, "and I wote also, that 
our salvation came not in by that material cross, but 
by Him which died thereupon." 

The priests were getting the worst of it, and the 
archbishop brought the examination to a close. 

" Sir John," said he, " ye have spoken here many 
wonderful words to the slanderous rebuke of the whole 
spirituality, giving a great evil example unto the com- 
mon sort. We must now be at this short point with 
you. Ye must submit yourself, and have none other 
opinion in these matters, than the universal faith and 
belief of the holy Church of Rome, or else throw your- 
self (no remedy) into most deep danger. See to it in 
time, for anon it will be too late." 



LORD COBHAM. 499 

" I will none otherwise believe in these points," re- 
plied the martyr, resolutely, " than that I have told you 
hereafore ; do with me what ye will." 

" Well, then," said Arundel, " I see none other, but 
we must needs do the law." He then stood up, all the 
assembly vailing their bonnets, and began : " In the 
name of God, Lord Cobham having been detected and 
presented at the lawful denouncement and request of 
our universal clergy, we proceeded against him according 
to the law (God to witness !) with all the favor possible. 
And following Christ's example in all we might, which 
willeth not the death of a sinner, but rather that he be 
converted and live, we sought in all ways to bring him 
to the Church's unity, and though we found him in the 
Catholic faith far wide, and so stiffnecked that he would 
not confess his error, nor purge himself, nor yet repent 
him thereof, we yet pitying him, of fatherly compassion 
appointed him a competent time of deliberation, to see 
if he would not seek to be reformed ; but seeing that he 
is not corrigible, we are driven to the very extremity 
of the law, and with great heaviness of heart we now 
proceed to the publication of the sentence definitive 
against him." 

This was sheer hypocrisy on the part of the primate, 
for he had resolved from the first that Lord Cobham 
should die, and he had come into the court with the 
sentence already written out, well knowing that the 
brave old soldier of Christ would not accept his life on 
the terms offered him. He then read the decree of the 



500 CROSS AND CROWN. 

court, which condemned him to be delivered over to the 
secular power to be put to death as a most detestable 
and dangerous heretic. The sentence also passed upon 
him the curse of the Church of Rome, and not upon 
him alone, but also upon all who should dare to aid him, 
or help, counsel, or defend him. 

When the reading of the sentence was concluded, 
Lord Cobham turned to the archbishop, and said to 
him, firmly : 

" Though ye judge my body, which is but a wretched 
thing, yet am I certain and sure that ye can do no harm 
to my soul, no more than could Satan upon the soul of 
Job. He who created that, will of His infinite mercy 
and promise save it ; I have therein no manner of doubt. 
And as concerning these articles before rehearsed, I will 
stand by them, even to the very death, by the grace of 
my eternal God." Then turning to the spectators, and 
stretching forth his hands, he exclaimed, in a loud voice : 
" Good Christian people, for God's love, be well aware 
of these men, for they will else beguile you, and lead 
you blindling into hell with themselves. For Christ 
saith plainly unto you, ' If one blind man leadeth 
another, they are like both to fall into the ditch.'" 
Then kneeling down before them, he prayed for his 
enemies : " Lord God Eternal ! I beseech Thee, of Thy 
great mercy's sake, to forgive my pursuers, if it be Thy 
blessed will." 

His words were wasted on the throng of priests and 
monks, who had from the first resolved to destroy him. 






LORD COBHAM. 501 

He was taken back to the Tower. As he passed through 
the streets of London under guard, he was followed by 
a weeping multitude, who prayed him to be firm and to 
be assured of their love and sympathy. His confession 
before the court was copied by his friends and circulated 
among the people, by whom it was eagerly and tearfully 
read. A little later, the priests put out a report that 
he had changed his mind since his sentence, and was 
now convinced that his former opinions were errors. 
He at once wrote the following declaration in contra- 
diction of the slander : 

" Forasmuch as Sir John Oldcastle, Knight and Lord 
Cobham, is untruly convicted and imprisoned, falsely 
reported, and slandered among the common people by 
his adversaries, that he should otherwise both feehand 
speak of the sacraments of the Church, and especially 
of the blessed sacraments of the altar, than was written 
in the confession of his belief, which was indicted and 
taken to the clergy, and so set up in divers open places 
of the city of London, known be it here to all the world 
that he never since varied in any point." 

Copies of this paper were posted by the friends of 
Lord Cobham on church doors and the city gates, and 
in other places in London. This effectually contradicted 
the rumor of his recantation, although his enemies did 
not cease to repeat the charge. His friends were even 
more active than his enemies, and one dark October 
night, about four weeks after his trial, a band of reso- 
lute citizens of London made a descent upon the Tower, 



502 • CROSS AND CROWN. 

released Lord Cobham from his prison, and carried him 
in triumph to his town-house in Smithfield, within the 
walls of the armed city of London. 

The archbishop was furious when he heard of Cob- 
ham's escape, but he dared not venture to take him in 
the city, for the whole municipality would have rallied 
to the defence of their favorite. The king w r as not 
willing to proceed against his old friend, now that he 
had had time to reflect upon the matter, and Lord 
Cobham remained for three months undisturbed in his 
home. Arundel was resolved, however, that his enemy 
should die, and the whole Church stood ready to aid 
him in his diabolical scheme. The archbishop was an 
accomplished plotter, and he determined to make the 
popularity of Lord Cobham with the Lollards the 
means of turning the king against him. Either by 
his cunning machinations, or by some other means, the 
Lollards were induced to make a most unwise display 
of their strength. The matter is shrouded even at 
present in a great deal of doubt, but we may well sup- 
pose that Arundel was to a very great extent the 
inciter of the attempt which he knew would bring ruin 
upon the man and the cause he hated. " The king was 
informed that the Lollards had formed a plot for mur- 
dering him and his brothers at Eltham. He removed 
immediately to Westminster, and was then told that 
they were assembling from all quarters, in the Ficket 
Field, behind St. Giles's, to act at a certain hour under 
Lord Cobham, and burn the Abbey, St. Paul's, St. 



LORD COB HAM. 503 

Albans, and all the friaries in London. In the middle 
of the night, the king ordered his friends to arm, that 
he might anticipate these enemies. He was urged to 
wait till daylight, that he might see who were with 
him, and who against him, and he was advised also to 
collect an army, if there was a formidable body to be 
opposed ; but with such men as at this immediate and 
unseasonable summons could be got together, he went 
out, daring a Christmas night, to the place stated by 
his informer, and found only a few persons there, who 
being asked what they wanted there, said, e The Lord 
Cobham.' It is said that unless the precaution had 
been taken of guarding the city gates, these people 
were to have been joined by fifty thousand servants 
and apprentices. In opposition to this most improba- 
ble story, it is asserted, that the persons whom the 
king found in the fields were collected there to hear a 
midnight preaching, because they could not assemble 
without .danger by day; and this tale, considering 
the season of the year, is as little credible as the 
former.* It is not unlikely that a conspiracy may 
have been formed for the purpose of raising the right- 
ful family to the throne, and that the Lollards had 
embarked in it as a party, in the expectation of obtain- 

* This tale is not so incredible as South ey supposes. The weather 
never had the effect of preventing the assembling of the Reformers 
in times of danger. We have already seen that the Potestants of 
Italy and France braved even greater rigors than a winter midnight 
to hear the Word of God from their .preachers. The English were 
not less zealous. 



504 CROSS AND CROWN. 

ing toleration at least, if not the triumph of their 
doctrines." * 

The principal personages among the Lollards were 
seized and imprisoned, and thirty-nine of them were 
burned alive for heresy and treason. The king set a 
price of a thousand marks on Lord Cobham's head, 
and extraordinary privileges were offered to the city 
which should deliver him in chains to the king. All 
these rewards were offered in vain, however. Lord 
Cobham escaped from his town house and took refuge 
in the country, passing from place to place, and finding 
friends everywhere willing and ready to incur any 
danger to give him shelter. The archbishop followed 
him with the vigilance of a bloodhound. Every monk 
and priest in the kingdom was on the watch for him, 
and the Church was converted into a vast detective 
agency for his apprehension. For four years, however, 
he remained at large, hiding among his friends. At 
length, he was betrayed by Lord Powis of Wales, who 
was paid by the priests to conduct them to his hiding 
place. He was immediately surrounded by an armed 
force, but he stood resolutely upon his defence, and 
would not have been taken alive had not a woman 
broken his legs with a stool. He fell helpless to the 
floor, and was at once seized. He was placed in a 
horse litter, and conveyed to London with all speed. 

The archbishop now had his victim in his power. 



Southey's Book of the Church, p. 206. 



LORD COBHAM. 505 

The king was in France, and to bring him to trial for 
high treason would be but to delay his death, and 
he might again escape them. The old sentence for 
heresy was pretext enough for killing him, and it was 
resolved to put it into instant execution. The good 
Lord Cobham was accordingly taken in his helpless 
state to Smithfield, where a gallows had been erected 
in front of his own house. He was suspended in 
chains from this gibbet, and a slow fire was kindled 
under his body as it swung in the chains. In this way, 
he was literally roasted to death. His sufferings were 
of the most horrible kind, and were prolonged very 
greatly. He was the first victim of the Romish 
Church martyred at Smithfield, afterwards so famous 
for these terrible scenes. His death was witnessed by 
a vast concourse of people, many of whom were his 
warmest sympathizers and friends. The' priests and 
monks present mocked him cruelly during his agony, 
and, says Foxe, " used their utmost endeavors to 
prevent the people from encouraging him with their 
prayers." 




III. 

ANNE ASKEW. 

HERE lived in Lincolnshire, in the reign of 
Henry VIII., a knight, of ancient and honora- 
ble family, Sir William Askew by name. He 
resided at Kelsay, his ancestral home, and was 
the father of several daughters and a son. Close by 
him lived his .most intimate friend, a Mr. Kyme, who 
was a man of great wealth. Mr. Kyme was the father 
of a son who was just entering upon manhood, and 
who would one day be the heir to his vast estate. 
Wishing that the young man should marry and settle 
down early, he began to look about him, as was the 
fashion with parents in those days, for a wife for his 
son, and his choice fell upon the eldest daughter of 
his old friend, Sir William Askew. The young people 
were betrothed, but before the marriage could be 
solemnized, the lady, who had been greatly averse to 
the proposed union, died. Sir William then proposed 
to Mr. Kyme that his son should marry Anne, his 
second daughter, who was more beautiful and attrac- 
tive than her sister had been. The knight was not 
willing to lose the chance of an alliance with so much 

wealth, and Mr. Kyme, on his part, was very anxious 
506 



ANNE ASKEW. 507 

that his son's wife should be a member of such a good 
old family. Young Kyme does not seem to have been 
very much concerned as to whom he married, but 
Anne Askew was earnestly opposed to becoming his 
wife. She begged her father not to compel her to 
marry a man whom she did not love, and who was 
personally disagreeable to her, but Sir William turned 
a deaf ear to her appeals, and in due time the marriage 
was celebrated. 

Anne Askew was not only a beautiful and high 
spirited woman, but she was also well educated for a 
woman of her time, and was possessed of unusual 
mental gifts. She was a very pious woman, and hav- 
ing become a wife, she endeavored faithfully to dis- 
charge her duty to her husband. They lived together 
in peace for some time, and she bore him two children. 
Yet she could not bring herself to love her husband, 
or even to feel attached to him, and there is very good 
reason for thinking that he was not worthy of such a 
feeling on her part. There were frequent causes of 
discontent between them, and their married life at 
length became entirely the reverse of happy. 

About this time the English Bible was given to the 
people by means of the printing press, and one of 
these copies came into the possession of Anne Askew, 
or Mistress Kyme. She read it with avidity, and it 
had the effect of working a complete revolution in her 
feelings and life. Up to this time she had been a 
Komanist, but the perusal of the Scriptures opened her 



508 CROSS AND CROWN. 

eyes to the errors of Rome, and she soon abandoned 
her old faith and became a convert to the religion of 
Jesus Christ as set forth in the Holy Gospel. Her 
Bible readings were watched with suspicion by the 
priests, who were quick to advise her husband to com- 
pel her to abandon a practice which they declared to be 
full of danger. Mr. Kyme, who was a bigoted Papist, 
endeavored to compel her to discontinue her studies, 
and thus drew from her the avowal that she was no 
longer a Romanist, but a follower of the doctrines of 
the Reformation. Instigated by the priests, he ordered 
her to give up her religion, and return to his own faith ; 
but she refused, telling him that her conscience was 
not subject to his control. He treated her very cruelly 
on account of her change of faith, and at length find- 
ing that he could not force her into obedience to his 
tyrannical demands, turned her out of his house. 

She at once repared to London, where she found 
friends, and began a suit for a divorce from her hus- 
band. The probability is that she abandoned the suit, 
finding it would be impossible to obtain justice at the 
hands of the Roman Catholic judges by whom her 
case would be considered. She resumed her maiden 
name, however, and steadfastly refused to return to 
her husband, or to have anything to do with him. She 
found friends at Court, and the queen, Catharine Parr, 
became warmly attached to her, and is said to have 
made her one of her ladies in waiting-. 

It was at this time that the Romanist enemies of 



• ANNE ASKEW. 509 

Queen Catharine were busily working to accomplish 
her ruin. They found it a difficult and a dangerous 
thing to attack the queen directly, for she still retained 
her influence over Henry. Her enemies hoped that by 
selecting one or more of her friends they might wring 
out of them by the torture, evidence enough to war- 
rant them in bringing an accusation against her. 
They, therefore, made common cause with Anne 
Askew's husband, and determined to make Anne the 
means of involving her royal friend and benefactress 
in the ruin they designed for every English Protestant. 
They accordingly surrounded her with spies, whose 
business it was to note and report every act or ut- 
terance upon which a charge of heresy could be based. 
One of these, a worthless wretch named Wadloe, took 
lodgings next door to her house, and even went so far 
as to enter her residence and watch her through the 
door of her sleeping apartment. He could discover 
nothing, however, and being conscience stricken went 
back to his employers with this confession : " She is 
the most devout woman I have ever known ; for at 
midnight she begins to pray, and ceases not for many 
hours, when I and others are addressing ourselves to 
sleep and work." The priests kept up their watch 
upon her, however. They wished to destroy her 
because of her renunciation of their creed and prac- 
tices, and they also hoped to wring from her in the 
agony of torture some confession which would be 
damaging to the queen. They were at length re- 



510 CROSS AND CROWN. 

warded for their vigilance. She was heard to say she 
had rather read five lines in the Bible than hear five 
masses in the chapel. She also expressed her disbelief 
as to the efficacy of the sacrament of the eucharist 
being dependent on the character or intention of the 
priest; and observed that whatever was the character 
or intention of the priest who administered to her the 
eucharist, he could not prevent her from receiving 
spiritually the body and blood of Christ. These ex- 
pressions were promptly reported to the priests, who 
obtained from the civil authorities a warrant for her 
arrest on the charge of heresy. 

In March, 1545, she was brought before a commission 
in London, and examined concerning her belief. In 
this, as in all her subsequent examinations, the ques- 
tion most strongly pressed was, what her sentiments 
were as to the doctrine of Tran substantiation. She 
refused to answer some of the questions, knowing the 
malice of her judges, and not wishing to criminate her- 
self. Others she answered with great readiness and 
freedom. The chief examiner was Christopher Dare, 
who began by asking her : 

" Do you believe that the sacrament upon the altar 
is the very body and blood of Christ?" 

If she had answered frankly according to her belief 
she would have rendered further examination useless, 
and her judges could have condemned her to death 
upon this confession. She was aware of this, and was 
determined not- to gratify them, or to criminate herself, 
so she said to Christopher Dare : 



ANNE ASKEW. 51 1 

"Please tell me why St. Stephen was stoned to 
death?" 
. " I cannot tell," replied Dare. 

"Neither will I tell you whether I do or do not 
believe the sacrament upon the altar to be the very 
body and blood of Christ." 

" Why did you say," asked Dare, " that you would 
rather read five lines in the Bible than hear five 
masses in' the church ? " 

"I confess that I said no less," she answered, 
" because the one greatly edifies me, the other nothing 
at all." Then, without censuring the idolatry of the 
Mass, for she had no wish to needlessly prejudice her 
case, she quoted in proof of the uselessness of perform- 
ing the service connected with it in a tongue not 
understood by the people, the words of St. Paul (1 Cor. 
xiv. 8), "If the trumpet give an uncertain sound, who 
shall prepare himself to the battle ? " She also quoted 
the 19th verse of the same chapter : " In the Church 
I had rather speak five words with my understanding, 
that by my voice I might teach others also, than ten 
thousand words in an unknown tongue." 

They asked her many other questions, among others 
what she thought of the book the king had written 
against Luther, and which had won him from the Pope 
the title of "Defender of the Faith." They hoped she 
would answer that she did not approve it, and thus 
make the king her enemy, for he was merciless to those 
who failed to praise his book ; but, fortunately for her, 



512 CROSS AND CROWN. 

she was able to answer, "I can pronounce no judg- 
ment upon it, as I never saw it." They also asked her, 
"Do you not think that private masses help souls 
departed ? " " It is great idolatry," she answered, " to 
believe more in these than in the death which Christ 
died for us." 

Finding it impossible to elicit anything from her, the 
examination was brought to a close, and she was sent 
to the Lord Mayor, who undertook to question her, but 
with no better success. He then committed her to 
prison, although there was no law to justify him in 
his act. Her friends endeavored to procure her release 
on bail, but the priests took care to prevent it, and she 
lay for seven days in the Compter prison, no one being 
allowed to speak with her during that time save a 
priest who was sent by the Bishop of Winchester, the 
infamous Gardiner, to question her. He asked her this 
question : 

" If the host should fall, and a beast should eat it, 
does the beast receive God or no ? " 

" Seeing you have taken the trouble to ask this ques- 
tion," she replied, " I desire you also to take the trouble 
to answer it yourself: for I will not, because I perceive 
you all come to tempt me." 

Her cousin Brittayne, who was much attached to 
her, now endeavored to secure her release on bail. He 
appealed to the Lord Mayor to liberate her, but the 
magistrate told him that as this was the Church's mat- 
ter he could not set her free without the consent of the 






ANNE ASKEW. 513 

Bishop of London. Bonner, the prelate referred to, 
professed the greatest interest in her ease, assured her 
cousin that he would do everything in his power to 
obtain her freedom, and urged him to advise her to 
speak her sentiments freely. The crafty bishop was 
fully resolved to burn Anne Askew, but he wished to 
beguile her into making an open confession of heresy, 
which he might use as a pretext for her murder. He 
had her brought before him on the 25th of March, and 
finding that he could not draw anything from her 
which would criminate her, taunted her with the 
cowardly insinuation that her life was not as pure as 
the Scriptures she read required. Looking him full in 
the face, she answered calmly : 

" I would, my lord, that all men knew my conversa- 
tion and living in all points ; for I am so sure of my- 
self this hour, that there is none able to prove any 
dishonesty in me. If you know any that can do it, I 
pray you bring them forth." 

Finding it impossible to make her utter anything for 
which she could be punished, the b.ishop drew up a 
confession, which he ordered her to sign. This con- 
fession would have committed her to the very doctrines 
she condemned, and she refused to sign it. At length, 
in compliance with the entreaties of her friends who 
were seeking her release, she wrote under the confes- 
sion : " I, Anne Askew, .do believe all things contained 
in the faith of the Catholic Church." Bonner burst into 

a furious passion as he read this subscription, well know- 
33 



514 CROSS A ND CR WN. 

ing that by it she did not mean the" Roman Catholic 
Church, and it was with difficulty that he could be 
brought to a sufficient degree of calmness to consent to 
her release. Bail was given, and she was set at liberty. 

But the priests were resolved that she should not 
escape them. Her youth, her beauty, her intellectual 
attainments, and her virtues were winning her too 
many friends, and she was too dangerous a heretic to 
be suffered to live. In less than three months she was 
again a prisoner in their hands. She was brought 
before the Lords of the Privy Council at Greenwich, 
and by them sent to Newgate prison, to be dealt with 
according to the law. 

The Lord Chancellor of England at this time was 
Thomas Wriothesley, one of the cruellest and most 
bigoted Romanists that ever held power in England. 
He was intimately associated with the old Duke of 
Norfolk and Bishop Gardiner in all the measures 
brought forward by the Romanist party to throttle the 
Reformation. He now undertook, the prosecution of 
the beautiful woman whose innocence and pure woman- 
liness had no power to touch his cruel heart. He caused 
her to be brought before the council on the 25th of 
June, and subjected her to an examination which lasted 
for five hours. He asked her what was her opinion 
as to the bread in the eucharist. She replied : 

" I believe that as oft as I, in a Christian congrega- 
tion, receive the bread in remembrance of Christ's death, 
and with thanksgiving, according to His holy institution, 






ANNE ASKEW. 515 

I receive therewith the fruits also of His most glorious 
passion." 

Bishop Gardiner interrupted her, angrily, and ordered 
her to give a direct answer, and not to speak in parables, 
at the same time calling her a parrot. 

" I am ready," she said, calmly, " to suffer all things 
at your hands ; not only your rebukes, but all that shall 
follow besides, yea, and that gladly." 

The next day her examination was resumed, and her 
answers not being satisfactory to Gardiner, that merci- 
less prelate cried out to her, "You will be burned." 
She answered : " I have searched all the Scriptures, yet 
could I never find that Christ or His apostles put any 
creature to death." 

Mr. Paget, one of the council, now asked her, more 
kindly than the others had done : " How can you avoid 
the very words of Christ, ' Take, eat, this is my body 
which is broken for you ? ' " 

" Christ's meaning in that passage," she replied, " is 
similar to the meaning of those other places of Scrip- 
ture, c I am the door,' 6 I am the vine,' ' Behold the Lamb 
of God,' ' That rock was Christ,' and such like. You 
are not in these texts to take Christ for the material 
thing which He is signified by, for then you will make 
Him a very door, a vine, a lamb, a stone, quite contrary 
to the Holy Ghost's meaning. All these indeed do 
signify Christ, even as the bread signifies His body in 
that place. And though He said there, ' Take, eat this 
in remembrance of me,' yet did He not bid them hang 



516 CROSS AND CROWN. 

up that bread in a pix and make it a god, or bow 
to it," 

She was sent back to Newgate, and the next day was 
very ill. Believing that she was dying, she requested 
leave to receive a visit from the good Hugh Latimer, 
who afterwards proved so faithful a witness for Christ, 
that he might comfort her with his godly counsel, but 
her request was refused. It was now very plain to her 
that her enemies were resolved upon her death. She 
was a brave woman, as all her history proves, and she 
was a sincere Christian as well. She turned for support 
and comfort to the only true source, and she found 
strength to bear all her trials with Christian fortitude 
and meekness. Her feelings are well described in the 
following poem, written by her during her imprisonment 
in Newgate : 

Like as the armed knight, 

Appointed to the field, 
With this world will I fight, 

And Christ shall be my shield. 

Faith is that weapon strong, 

Which will not fail at need ; 
My foes, therefore, among, 

Therewith will I proceed. 

As it is had in strength 

And force of Christ's way, 
It will prevail at length, 

Though all the devils say nay. 

Faith in the fathers old 
Obtained righteousness ; 



ANNE ASKEW. 51 7 

"Which makes me very bold 
To fear no world's distress. 

I now rejoice in heart, 

And hope bids me do so ; 
For Christ will take my part, 

And ease me of my woe. 

Thou say'st, Lord, whoso knock 

To them Thou wilt attend ; 
Undo, therefore, the lock, 

And Thy strong power send. 

More en'mies now I have 

Than hairs upon my head : 
Let them not me deprave, 

But fight Thou in my stead. 

On Thee my care I cast, 

For all their cruel spite ; 
I set not by their haste, 

For Thou art my delight. 

I am not she that list 

My anchor to let fall, 
For every drizzling mist, 

My ship substantial. 

Not oft use I to write, 

In prose, nor yet in rhyme ; 
Yet will I show one sight 

That I saw in my time. 

I saw a royal throne, 

Where Justice should have sit, 
But in her stead was one 

Of moody, cruel wit. 

Absorbed was righteousness, 

As of the raging flood ; 
Satan, in his excess, 

Sucked up the guiltless blood. 



518 CROSS AND CROWN. 

Then thought I, Jesus, Lord, 

When Thou shalt judge us all, 
Hard is it to record 

On these men what will fall. 

Yet, Lord, I Thee desire, 

Eor that ttiey do to me, 
Let them not taste the hire 

Of their iniquity. 

In all her previous examinations, Anne had avoided 
a direct answer to the question concerning her faith in 
the doctrine of Transubstantiation, but now feeling that 
her enemies were determined to kill her, and that she 
had no longer anything to gain by refusing to answer 
their questions, she wrote to the Privy Council a plain 
statement of her belief, in these words : 

" That the sacramental bread was left us to be re- 
ceived with thanksgiving in remembrance of Christ's 
death, the only remedy of our soul's recovery, and that 
thereby we also receive the whole benefits and fruits of 
His most glorious passion." 

On Monday, June 28th, she was taken to Guildhall 
to be examined again by the council. She was taunted 
with being a heretic, but she denied the imputation, and 
declared that she had doue nothing for which she de- 
served death by the law of God. When they asked her 
if she denied the Sacrament of the eucharist to be 
Christ's body and blood, she answered, without hesi- 
tation : 

" Yes, for the same Son of God that was born of the 
Virgin Mary is now glorious in Heaven, and will come 



ANNE ASKEW. 519 

again from thence at the last day in like manner as He 
went up. And as to what you call your God, it is but 
a piece of bread. As an additional proof of this (mark 
it when you please), let it lie in the pix but three 
months and it will be mouldy, and so turn to nothing 
that is good. I am therefore persuaded that it cannot 
be God." 

" Do you deny," she was asked, " the bread in the pix 
to be God?" 

" God is a spirit," she replied, " and not a wafer-cake, 
and He is to be worshipped in spirit and in truth, and 
not by the impious superstitious homage paid to a wafer, 
converted, by Popish jugglery, into a God." 

" Do you plainly deny Christ to be in the Sacrament?" 
she was asked again. 

" I believe," she answered, " the eternal Son of God 
not to dwell there." She fortified her declaration — she 
quoted many passages of Scripture. " I neither wish 
death," she concluded, " nor fear his might. God have 
the praise thereof with thanks." 

The council urged her to take the benefit of a priest, 
but she replied, with a smile, that she would confess 
her sins to God, from whom alone she could obtain 
absolution. 

The Lord Mayor of London, Sir Martin Bowes, now 
asked and received permission to question her. " Thou 
foolish woman," he began, " sayest thou that the priest 
cannot make the body of Christ ? " 

" I say so, my lord," replied Anne, " for I have read 



520 CROSS AND CROWN. 

that God made man, but that man can make God I 
never jet read, nor I suppose ever shall." 

".Thou foolish woman/' continued the pompous magis- 
trate, " after the words of consecration, is it not the 
Lord's body ? " 

" No, it is but consecrated or sacramental bread," she 
answered. 

" What if a mouse eat it after the consecration ? " 
asked the mayor, confident of annihilating her with this 
argument. " What shall become of the mouse ? What 
sayest thou, foolish woman ? " 

Anne Askew gazed at him a moment, and then asked, 
quietly : 

" What shall become of it, say you, my lord ? " 

" I say that the mouse is damned," he answered, 
quickly. 

" Alack ! poor mouse ! " she exclaimed, with mock 
pity. 

Some of the council burst into a laugh at these words, 
and seeing how badly their champion was faring at the 
hands of Mistress Anne, they put a stop to his question- 
ing, and " proceeded," says Strype, " to the butchery 
they intended before they came thither." 

By the law of England, Anne Askew was entitled to 
an open trial by jury, but the Koman Catholic influence 
was strong enough in the council to deprive her of this 
right. The Lord Chancellor Wriothesley and Bishop 
Gardiner exerted themselves to induce the council to 
condemn her, and were successful in their efforts. 



ANNE ASKEW. 521 

There is nothing so hateful to Rome as civil freedom, 
and nothing which gives her greater delight than the 
trampling down of the barriers with which the laws of 
a country encompass that freedom. On the 28th of 
June, Anne was condemned by the council in com- 
pany with Christopher White, and a Mr. Adams, a tailor. 
They were all three informed that they had been found 
guilty of heresy by their own confessions. The lord 
chancellor then read to them the sentence of the council, 
which was that they should be burned at the stake. 
They were then sent back to Newgate. 

Anne now appealed to the king for justice, but her 
appeal fell upon an ear of stone. Henry was too intensely 
selfish to care for the life of this poor woman, and he 
left her case in the hands of the priests, her sworn 
enemies. These people endeavored to make it appear 
that her appeal was based upon her fear of death ; but 
this was not so. She did not fear death, but she wished 
to have justice done her. She felt that the law was 
being violated in her case, and that her rights as an 
English woman were being trampled under foot by the 
myrmidons of the Pope, and she was brave enough to 
contend for them to the last. In a letter to her old 
tutor, John Lascels, who suffered with her, she thus 
meets this charge of cowardice : " friend, most dearly 
beloved in God, I marvel not a little what should move 
you to judge in me so slender a faith as to fear death, 
which is the end of all misery. In the Lord, I desire 
of you not to believe of me such wickedness ; for I doubt 



522 CROSS AND CROWN. 

not, but God will perform His work in me, like as He 
hath began." 

The Romanists now began to annoy her with efforts 
to induce her to recant. They sent to her Nicholas 
Shaxton, the apostate ex-Bishop of Salisbury, and others, 
who did their utmost, by promises of mercy and freedom, 
to move her. She remained firm, however, and told 
Shaxton to his face that it had been good for him if he 
had never been born. When her visitors left her she 
was sent to the Tower of London — the day being the 
13th of July — where, at three o'clock in the afternoon, 
she underwent a new examination. This examination 
was conducted by the Lord Chancellor Wriothesley, 
who wished to compel her to say something that would 
criminate the queen, or the Duchess of Suffolk, the 
Countess of Sussex, the Countess of Hertford, Lady 
Denny, or Lady Fitzwilliams, all of whom the Ro- 
manists were anxious to destroy. Some of these ladies 
had been very kind to her since her imprisonment. 
The chancellor plied her with questions, but could dis- 
cover nothing to the prejudice of these ladies. He then 
ordered her to be stretched upon the rack, in order to 
force her through sheer suffering to say something that 
he might twist into an accusation against the ladies 
mentioned. She was fastened to the rack, and the levers 
were turned, causing her the keenest suffering. She 
bore the cruel torture without a cry or a murmur.* 

* The torture of the rack, or stretching, was applied in various ways, 
the object being always to cause the victim to suffer by the stretching 



ANNE ASKEW. 523 

The chancellor was furious at not being able to extort 
anything from her, and ordered the torture to be in- 
creased ; but the lieutenant of the Tower, Sir Anthony 
Knevet, ordered the jailors to release her. Wriothesley 
angrily commanded the lieutenant to obey him, but Sir 
Anthony told him that he commanded in the Tower, 
and reminded the chancellor that he had not the king's 
order to put the prisoner to the torture, and that he, the 
lieutenant, was incurring a serious risk in allowing one 
of the king's subjects to be racked without express orders 
from the king. 

Wriothesley was a true son of the Romish Church, 
and he was not to be stopped in his cruelty. He threw 
off his gown, and called on Richard Rich, who had 
accompanied him, and who was afterwards lord chan- 
cellor, to do likewise. Then these brutal men them- 
selves seized hold of the levers. The chancellor, pausing 
a moment, asked Anne if she was with child. 

" Ye shall not need to spare for that," replied the 
heroic woman. " Do your wills upon me." 

The chancellor and Rich then applied themselves to 



or extension of his limbs. The rack was usually a stout wooden frame 
with two rollers or windlasses, one at each end, placed horizontally, 
seven feet apart. The arms and feet of the victims were fastened to 
these rollers by sharp, cutting cords. The windlasses were then turned 
by levers, until the body of the victim was in a state of tension, some- 
times so great as not only to dislocate the limbs, but to tear the muscles. 
The agony of the sufferer was also increased by the cords cutting 
through the ankles and wrists to the very bone. The rack has always 
been a favorite instrument of punishment with the Komish Church. 



524 CROSS AND CROWN. 

their horrid task. The victim on the rack was a wo- 
man whose helplessness and gentleness might have 
moved any hearts but those hardened by the religion 
of Rome. They were merciless, and with their own 
hands they stretched her body until her joints were 
pulled asunder, and her bones almost broken. She en- 
dured it all, however, and to the end refused to say one 
word which might compromise any one who had be- 
friended her, or whom she had reason to think held the 
same faith as herself. Nothing but the fear that she 
would die under the torture made these wretches desist. 
As soon as she was released from the rack, she swooned 
from the awful agony. Restoratives were applied and 
her consciousness returned. Then the brutal chancellor 
kept her sitting for two hours on the bare floor, while 
he urged her to renounce her faith. After this, she 
says, in her touching narrative of her sufferings, " was 
I brought to a house, and laid in a bed, with as weary 
and painful bones as ever had patient Job; I thank my 
Lord God therefor." Her words do not convey a fair 
idea of her condition. The torture had deprived her 
of the use of her limbs, which had been pulled apart, 
and her sufferings were intense. Her condition was 
such that she could have lived but a short time at the 
best, for it was not possible for a human body to rally 
from injuries such as she had received. 

The lieutenant of the Tower set out for the king's 
presence immediately upon the departure of the chan- 
cellor, who had threatened him with the royal dis- 



ANNE ASKEW. 525 

pleasure for refusing to continue the torture. He 
reached the palace before the chancellor, and gave the 
king an exact account of the affair, declaring that he 
had not the heart to torture a poor woman when it was 
useless, without express orders from his majesty. Henry 
approved his conduct, and sharply censured the chan- 
cellor. There the matter ended, and he allowed the 
priests and their followers to work their will on the poor 
victim whom they had already brought down to the 
gates of death. 

The chancellor and the Privy Council endeavored to 
prevent their treatment of Anne from becoming known, 
but without effect. They were ashamed that their 
cowardly brutality should be made known to the people. 
The chancellor sent her a message that if she would 
change her faith she should want for nothing, but that if 
she continued obstinate she should be sent to Newgate 
and put to death. She replied that she would rather 
die than break her faith. 

Bonner and his associates, who were adepts at circu- 
lating false reports in such cases, endeavored to damage 
their victim in the eyes of the people by printing and 
circulating the paper which he had written after her 
first imprisonment, and which she had refused to sign. 
The reader will remember that she had written under 
this paper, " I, Anne Askew, do believe all things con- 
tained in the faith of the Catholic Church." Now, how- 
ever, Bonner printed the paper with her unqualified 
signature to it, and with the names of upwards of a 



526 CROSS AND CROWN. 

dozen of ecclesiastics and laymen appended to it as wit. 
nesses. It was a trick worthy of its author. She at 
once drew up an answer, in which she utterly denied 
the genuineness of the document printed by Bonner,* 
and declared that she had never, at any time since her 
trials began, ceased to profess the faith she then held. 

She was then committed to Newgate, and while she 
lay in prison there, suffering and sore from the effects 
of her torture, she drew up the following confession of 
her faith : 

" I, Anne Askew, of good memory, although my 
merciful Father hath given me the bread of adver- 
sity and the water of trouble, yet not so much as my 
sins have deserved, do confess myself here a sinner be- 
fore the throne of His heavenly Majesty, desiring His 
eternal mercy. And forasmuch as I am by the law 
unrighteously condemned for an evil-doer concerning 
opinions, I take the same most merciful God of mine, 
who hath made both heaven and earth, to record that 
I hold no opinions contrary to His Holy Word. And 
I trust in my merciful Lord, who is the giver of all 
grace, that He will graciously assist me against all evil 
opinions, which are contrary to His most blessed verity. 
For I take Him to witness that I do, and will unto my 
life's end, utterly abhor them to the uttermost of my 
power. 

" But this is the heresy which they report me to 
hold : That after the priest hath spoken the words of 
consecration, there remaineth bread still. They both 



ANNE ASKEW. 527 

say, and also teach it for a necessary article of faith, 
that after those words are once spoken, there remaineth 
no bread, but even the selfsame body that hang upon 
.the. cross on Good Friday, both flesh, blood, and bone. 
To this belief of theirs, say I nay. For then were our 
common creed false, which saith, ' that He sitteth on 
the right hand of God the Father Almighty, and from 
thence He shall come to judge the quick and the dead/ 
Lo, this is the heresy that I hold, and for it must suffer 
the death. But as touching the holy and blessed sup- 
per of the Lord, I believe it to be a most necessary 
remembrance of His glorious sufferings and death. 
Moreover, I believe as much therein as my eternal and 
only Redeemer, Jesus Ghrist, would I should believe. 

" Finally, I believe all those Scriptures to be true 
which He hath confirmed with His most precious blood. 
Yea, and as St. Paul saith, those Scriptures are suffi- 
cient for our learning and salvation that Christ hath 
left here with us ; so that I believe we need no un- 
written verities to rule His Church with. Therefore 
look what He hath said unto me with His own mouth 
in His holy Gospel, that have I, with God's grace, closed 
up in my heart. And my full trust is,- as David saith, 
that it shall be c a lantern to my footsteps/ 

" There be some that do say that I deny the eucha- 
rist, or Sacrament of thanksgiving ; but those people do 
untruly report of me. For I both say and believe it, 
that if it were ordered -like as Christ instituted and 
left it, a most singular comfort it were unto us alL But 



528 CROSS AND CROWN. 

as concerning your Mass, as it is now used in our days, 
I do say and believe it to be the most abominable idol 
that is in the world ; for my God will not be eaten with 
teeth, neither yet dieth He again. And upon these 
words that I have now spoken will I suffer death." 

Throughout the whole of her persecution Anne Askew 
had preserved the patient sweetness of her demeanor. 
All the cruelties of her enemies had been powerless to 
change this, or to wring from her one unchristian com- 
plaint or unwomanly word. She was only in her twenty- 
fifth year, and life was very sweet to her, but not so 
sweet as to make it worth the sacrifice of her conscience. 
She did not desire martyrdom, but she did not shrink 
from it, and she bore all her sufferings with a firmness 
and gentleness never surpassed in the annals of Chris- 
tian heroism. Not once did she revile her enemies, but 
like her blessed Master she prayed for her murderers, 
that they might be saved from the just punishment of 
their crimes. 

At length the day of her execution arrived. Three 
stakes were set up in front of St. Bartholomew's Church 
at Smithfield, and the space surrounding them enclosed 
with a railing to keep off the crowd. A dense concourse 
of people filled the street, and lined the windows and 
housetops commanding a view of the stake. A platform 
had been erected at the side of the church, and on this 
sat the Lord Chancellor Wriothesley, the old Duke of 
Norfolk, the old Earl of Bedford, the Lord Mayor of 
London, and several other leaders of the Papist party. 



ANNE ASKEW. 529 

Numerous monks and priests were scattered through 
the crowd, but there were also many friends and sym- 
pathizers of the martyrs, w T ho had come as a matter of 
duty to witness the death of their friends, and to cheer 
them, if possible, with their prayers or their exhorta- 
tions. Anne Askew, being unable to walk or stand, in 
consequence of her torture upon the rack, was brought 
in a chair to the stake, where she was fastened to the 
post by an iron chain passed about her waist, and was . 
thus held up to it. Three other victims of Rome were 
brought out to die with her. They were, John Lascels, 
a former member of the king's household and Anne's 
old tutor, Nicholas Belenean, a priest of Shropshire, and 
John Adams, a tailor, all condemned for holding the 
opinions for which Anne was to suffer. Anne was- 
fastened to a separate stake, and the others to the re- 
maining two. They spoke to each other constantly 
words of comfort and encouragement, and it was evident 
to all that the men became more intrepid and resolute 
on witnessing the courage and hearing the Christian 
exhortations of the beautiful woman who was to die 
with them. As for Anne, her face was calm and peace- 
ful. " She had an angel's countenance, and a smiling 
face," says one who witnessed her death. 

When the preparations were completed, the renegade 
Bishop Shaxton mounted the pulpit which had been 
erected in the square, and began to preach to the mar- 
tyrs, urging them to repent of their sins and be recon- 
ciled to the Church of Rome. His words were in vain, 

34 



530 CROSS AND CROWN. 

however. In the eyes of the martyrs he was a traitor 
who had betrayed his Lord as basely as Judas had done, 
and he was the last man in the world that could have 
influenced them at such a time. Anne, in spite of her 
sufferings, followed him with marked attention through- 
out his discourse. When he spoke the truth she ex- 
pressed her assent audibly, but when he advanced any- 
thing contrary to Scripture, she exclaimed : " There he 
misseth, and speaketh without the book." 

The sermon being ended, the martyrs began their 
prayers— the last they were to utter on earth. Then 
the lord chancellor, in accordance with the law of Par- 
liament, sent to Anne a letter sealed with the great seal 
of England, offering her the king's pardon if she would 
abjure her heretical opinions. She would not even look 
at the document, but waved the messenger back, say- 
ing, calmly and firmly : " I am not come here to deny 
my Lord and Master." The same offer was made to 
each of the other three martyrs, but they followed the 
example of their heroic sister in the faith, and refused 
to accept it. The messenger then returned to the plat- 
form on which the chancellor and the Roman Catholic 
nobles were sitting, and the Lord Mayor, rising to his 
feet, exclaimed, with a loud voice : " Fiat justitia ! " 
The reeds were immediately kindled, and the martyrs 
were instantly enveloped in the flames and smoke. 
Powder had been placed about their persons for the 
purpose of ending their sufferings speedily, and in a 
little while this exploded, killing them all instantly. 



ANNE ASKEW. 531 

Up to the time of the lighting of the fire, the sky had 
been fair and peaceful, but the torch had hardly been 
applied to the reeds when the heavens were suddenly 
covered with dark clouds. There was a sharp peal of 
thunder, and then a slight shower of rain descended. 
This strange occurrence produced a profound impression 
upon the multitude assembled about the stake. The 
Reformers who were present cried out that it was a 
manifestation of God's displeasure at the cruel murder 
of his servants ; but the priests and monks standing by 
cried, ferociously : " They are damned ! ' They are 
damned ! " At the same time, they gnashed their teeth 
in impotent rage at the martyrs, whose lifeless bodies 
w r ere being fast consumed by the flames; but whose 
souls had passed through the gates of affliction to the 
heavenly land, where the power and malice of Rome 
could not follow them. 

So died Anne Askew, one of the noblest and purest 
witnesses of the truth of which the Christian Church 
can boast. She gave her life gladly for Christ, and she 
has her reward in the grateful reverence which is paid 
to her memory by the Church of Christ in every land. 




IV. 

LAURENCE SAUNDERS. 

AURENCE SAUNDERS was a man of good 
family. He was born during the reign of 
Henry VIII., and was educated at Eton College, 
from which he passed to King's College at Cam- 
bridge, where he remained three years. At the end of 
that time his mother, who was a wealthy widow, and 
who wished him to engage in mercantile pursuits, 
apprenticed him to Sir William Chester, an eminent 
city merchant. This change was not to the taste of 
the young man, however, and Sir William, perceiving 
this, gave up his indentures and prevailed upon his 
mother to allow him to resume his studies. He was 
soon admitted to the ministry of the English Church, 
and in the reign of Edward VI. married a young 
woman of his own rank in life, who proved a noble 
help meet to him, and to whom he was devotedly 
attached. After filling sundry positions he was given 
the rectorship of All-hallows church in the City of 
London. He was in charge of this parish when 
Bloody Mary began her persecution of the Church of 
England. 

Bonner, the Bishop of London, was not slow in 

532 



LAURENCE SAUNDERS. 533 

singling out Saunders as a victim. In consequence of 
a sermon which he preached to his congregation on the 
15th of October, 1553, he was arrested and carried 
before the bishop, who ordered him to write down his 
opinion concerning the doctrine of Transubstantiation. 
He obeyed without hesitation, and as he handed the 
paper to the bishop, said : 

"My lord, ye do seek my blood, and ye shall have 
it. I pray God that ye may be so baptized in it, that 
ye may thereafter loathe bloodsucking, and become 
a better man." He added that his conscience was 
clear. 

" A goodly conscience, truly ! " exclaimed Bonner, 
interrupting him. "It would make our queen a 
bastard, would it not, I pray you ? '.' 

" We go about no such matter," replied Saunders. 
"Let them care for that, whose writings are yet in the 
hands of men, witnessing the same, not without the 
great reproach and shame of the authors." 

This retort cut the unprincipled bishop to the quick, 
for Bonner had, in the reign of Henry VIII., written 
and printed a book against the lawfulness of Henry's 
marriage with Queen Catharine, the mother of Queen 
Mary. He was powerless to reply, and he called out 
to the officers, in a rage : 

" Carry away this frenzy fool to prison." 

Previous to his arrest, Saunders had lived in con- 
stant dread of being imprisoned, and had ' been so 
much disturbed by this feeling, that he said to a friend : 



534 CROSS AND CROWN. 

" In very deed, I am in prison till I be in prison." He 
knew that his arrest would be but the prelude to his 
death, but from the moment of his apprehension all 
his disquiet ceased, and he became calm and peaceful. 
He described his feelings to a fellow prisoner " as a 
sense of refreshment issuing from every part and 
member towards the heart, and from thence ebbing and 
flowing to and fro ; and he believed it to be ' a certain 
taste of the Communion of Saints, wonderfully com- 
forting him, not only in spirit, but in body also.' ' : He 
charged his wife that she should make no effort to 
obtain his release, but that she should leave him in the 
hands of God, to work His blessed will. He assured 
her of his cheerful constancy, thanks to God and His 
Christ, "in whom, and through whom," he added, "I 
shall, I know, be able to fight a good fight, and finish 
a good course, and then receive the crown which is laid 
up in store for me and all the true soldiers of Christ. 
Thank, you know whom, for her most sweet and com- 
fortable putting me in remembrance of my journey 
whither I am passing. God send us all good speed, 
and a joyful meeting. I have too few such friends 
to further me in that journey, which is, indeed, the 
greatest friendship." 

He was kept a prisoner for fifteen months, and was 
treated with considerable severity. His place of con- 
finement was the Marsh alsea prison, never a comfort- 
able abode at any time, and a wretched place at this 
period. The keeper of the prison had positive orders 



LAURENCE SAUNDERS. 535 

not to allow any one to visit his prisoner, and when 
Mrs. Saunders came to the jail, with her infant in her 
arms, and begged to see her husband, he was obliged to 
refuse her. Touched by her distress, however, he took 
the baby in his arms and carried him to his father. 
Saunders was profoundly moved by the sight of his 
boy, and when his fellow prisoners crowded around him 
to see the little fellow, an uncommon sight in that 
terrible place, he exclaimed with an outburst of 
feeling : 

(i What man, fearing God, would not rather lose this 
present life, rather than, by prolonging it, adjudge this 
boy to be a bastard, his wife a whore, and himself a 
whore-monger? Yea, if there were no other cause for 
which a man of my estate should lose his life, yet who 
would not give it to avouch this child to be legitimate, 
and his marriage to be lawful and holy ? " 

The Romish party had foully denounced the mar- 
riages of the clergy in King Edward's reign as invalid, 
and had branded all the children of such unions as 
illegitimate. The married clergy, therefore, had not 
only their religion to maintain against Rome, but the 
honor of their wives and children was at stake, and 
during the whole reign there were fewer apostates 
among them than among their single brethren. 

After being kept in prison for fifteen months, Mr. 
Saunders was taken for examination before the Privy 
Council, over which presided Gardiner, the Bishop of 
Winchester, then Lord Chancellor of England. He 



536 CROSS AND CROWN. 

knew that this was but preliminary to his condemna- 
tion, but he was resolved to endure all with the 
firmness of a faithful Christian man. Gardiner began 
by telling him that his heresies were well known to 
the council, but that it was thought fit to show him 
mercy if he would seek it properly. " We have fallen 
in manner all/' he said, " but now we be risen again, 
and returned to the Catholic Church ; you must rise 
with us, and come home unto it. Leave off your 
painting and pride of speech, for such is the fashion of 
you all to please yourselves in your glorious words. 
Answer, yes or no." 

" My lord," replied the martyr, calmly, " it is no 
time for me now to paint. And as for pride, there is 
no great cause why it should be in me ; my learning I 
confess to be but small, and as for riches or worldly 
wealth, I have none at all. Notwithstanding, it 
standeth me in hand to answer your demand circum- 
spectly, considering that one of these two extreme perils 
is likely to fall upon me, namely, the losing of a good 
conscience, or the losing of this my body and life. 
And I tell you truth, I love both life and liberty, if I 
could enjoy them without the hurt of my conscience." 

" Conscience ! " said the chancellor, who, being de- 
ficient in that quality, always disbelieved its existence 
in others ; " you have none at all, but pride and 
arrogancy, dividing yourselves by singularity from the 
Church." 

" The Lord is the knower of all men's consciences," 



LAURENCE SAUNDERS. 537 

answered the martyr. "And where your lordship 
layeth to my charge this dividing myself from the 
Church (as you do mean, and as is now among you 
concluded upon, and I do understand), I do assure you 
that I live in the faith wherein I have been brought up 
since I was fourteen years of age, being taught that the 
power of the Bishop of Rome is but usurped, with 
many other abuses springing thereof. Yes, this I have 
received, even at your hands, as a thing agreed upon 
by the Catholic Church and public authority." 

" But have you received by consent and authority, 
all your heresies of the blessed sacrament of the 
altar ? " asked Gardiner, stung by this reply. 

" My lord," said Saunders, '" it is less offence to cut 
off an arm, hand, or joint of man, than to cut off the 
head. For the man may live though he lose an arm, 
hand, or joint; but he cannot without his head. Now 
you had all agreed to cut off the supremacy of the 
Bishop of Rome, whom now you will have to be the 
head of the Church again." 

Here Bonner interrupted him, and called out to the 
chancellor : " And if it please your lordship, I have 
his hand against the blessed sacrament. What say 
you to that ? " he asked, turning to the prisoner. 

" What I have written, that have I written," was the 
reply, " and further I will not accuse myself. Nothing 
have you to burden me withal, for breaking of your 
laws since they were in force." 

" You are obstinate, and refuse liberty," said the 
chancellor. 



538 CROSS AND CROWN. 

" My lord," said Saunders, simply, " I may not buy 
liberty at such a price ; but I beseech your honors to 
be means to the queen's majesty for such a pardon for 
us, that we may live and keep our consciences un- 
clogged, and we shall live as most obedient subjects. 
Otherwise, I must say for myself, that by God's grace 
I will abide the utmost extremity that man may do 
against me, rather than act against my conscience." 

"Ah, sirrah," cried Gardiner, "you will live as -you 
like. The Donatists did desire to live in singularity ; 
but indeed they were not fit to live on earth : no more 
are you, and that you shall understand within these 
seven days ; therefore away with him." 

" Welcome be it," said the martyr, tranquilly, " what- 
soever the will of God shall be, either life or death. 
And I tell you truly, I have learned to die. But ex- 
hort you to beware of shedding innocent blood. Truly 
it will cry. The Spirit of God r,est upon you all." 

He was taken from the council chamber, and made 
to wait in an anteroom until the other prisoners who 
had been brought from the same jail with him were ex- 
amined. There was a large crowd present in the hall, 
and Mr. Saunders took advantage of this to exhort the 
people to avoid the wrath of God by refusing to bow 
the knee to Antichrist, and to be bold to confess the 
true faith of their Saviour in the face of any danger 
that might threaten them. 

By the sentence of the council Mr. Saunders was ex- 
communicatedj and turned over to the secular power 



LAURENCE SAUNDERS. 539 

for punishment. The sheriff, in whose custody he was 
placed, lodged him in the Compter, a prison in Bread 
Street, within the limits of his old parish. He was 
very much pleased at this, as it seemed to him like 
getting back among his old friends, as indeed it was, for 
the people of his church, who were much attached to 
him, flocked to the street without the prison, and he 
preached to them through the barred windows of his 
cell, as from a pulpit. 

Knowing that his end was close at hand, the martyr 
wrote to his wife, who had been refused permission to 
see him, telling her that he was soon to be despatched 
to Christ, and comforting her. He asked her to send 
him a shirt, " which," he wrote, " you know whereunto 
it is consecrated. Let it be sewed down on both sides, 
and not open. my Heavenly Father, look upon me 
in the face of Thy Christ, or else I shall not be able to 
abide Thy countenance. He will do so, and therefore 
I will not be afraid what sin, death, and hell can do 
against me. wife, always remember the Lord. God 
bless you ! Yea He will bless thee, good wife, and thy 
poor boy also. Only cleave thou unto Him, and He will 
give thee all things." 

Obedient to his request, the noble woman made the 
shirt and sent it to him. It was the garment in which 
he was to die at the stake, and it was a comfort to him 
that it was made by the hands of her who had been a 
true help meet to him in his prosperity, and whose for- 
titude greatly sustained him in his hour of trial. 



540 * CROSS AND CROWN. 

On the 4th of February, 1555, Bishop Bonner came 
to the prison to degrade him from the ministry. This 
mockery was performed with great minuteness, and 
when it was concluded, the martyr said to the brutal 
bishop : " I thank God I am none of your Church." 

The next morning he was delivered by the Sheriff 
of London to a detachment of the Queen's Guard, to 
be conveyed to Coventry, where he was to be burned 
to death. On the first night they stopped at Saint 
Alban's. A person named Grimauld, who had been a 
member of the Reformed Church of England, but who 
had apostatized to Rome, took supper with the martyr. 
Saunders took the cup in his hands, and asked his 
companion whether he would pledge him in the cup 
which he would begin. The apostate answered tim- 
idly, " Of the cup in your hand will I pledge you, but 
I will not promise to do so with the other which you 
mean." 

"Well," said the martyr, "my dear Lord Jesus 
Christ hath begun to me of a more bitter cup than 
mine shall be, and shall I not pledge my sweet 
Saviour ? Yes, I hope to do so." 

From Saint Albans they continued their journey, 
and arrived at Coventry on the 7th of February. As 
the captive passed through the town the people 
thronged the streets to gaze upon him, and many were 
the exclamations of pity and sympathy that greeted 
him. A poor shoemaker came up to him, and said to 
him, with tears : 



LAURENCE SAUNDERS. 541 

" my good master, may God strengthen and com- 
fort you." 

" Pray for me/' said the martyr, earnestly ; " I am the 
most unfit man for this high office that was ever 
appointed to it ; but my gracious God and dear Father 
is able to make me strong enough.". 

He passed on to the town jail, into which he was 
thrown with common felons. He made a good use of 
this companionship, and passed the night in praying 
with them and instructing them in the truths of 
Christianity. 

The next morning, February 8th, 1555, he was taken 
from his prison and conveyed to the park, where the 
stake had been set up. He was clad in an old gown 
and in the shirt his wife had made for him. He was 
barefooted, and walked with difficulty. As they drew 
near to the stake, the officer in charge of the guard said 
to Mr. Saunders that he was one of them who troubled 
the kingdom with false doctrines and heresy, but that 
if he would recant and be reconciled to the Church of 
Home, the queen would still pardon him. If he re- 
fused he would be put to death immediately. 

" It is not I, nor my fellow preachers of God's truth, 
that have hurt the queen's realm," replied the martyr ; 
"but it is yourself, and such as you are, who have 
always resisted God's holy Word ; it is you who mar 
the queen's realm. I hold no heresies, but the doc- 
trine of God, the blessed Gospel of Christ, that hold I, 
that believe I, that have I taught, and that will I 
never revoke." 



542 CROSS AND CROWN. 

Upon reaching the place of martyrdom, Mr. Saun- 
ders knelt down and prayed fervently. Then, rising, 
he embraced the stake, exclaiming : 

" Welcome the Cross of Christ, welcome everlasting 
life." 

Then they bound him to the stake, and the pile was 
lighted. The wood being green burned slowly, and 
this greatly increased his sufferings; but he bore the 
torments of the flames with patient firmness, never 
uttering a cry nor a groan, and presently he fell asleep 
in Jesus. 



V. 
ROWLAND TAYLOR. 

T the death of King Edward VI. there was a 
fp\$ feeble attempt to set aside his sister and right- 
ful successor, Mary, the daughter of Catharine 
of Arragon, and to give the throne to Lady 
Jane Grey. The first to take up the cause of Queen 
Mary were the men of Suffolk. These men were de- 
voted followers of the doctrines of John Wycliffe and 
the Reformers, and, although they acknowledged Mary's 
right to the crown, they demanded of her liberty of con- 
science in regard to their faith before they put the crown 
upon he«r head. She readily assured them that " she 
meant graciously not to compel or strain other men's 
consciences, otherwise than God should, as she trusted, 
put in their hearts a persuasion of the truth, through 
the opening of His Word unto them " — a promise which 
she broke at the very first opportunity. The County 
of Suffolk had been one of the very first to receive, and 
among the most zealous to maintain the doctrines of 
the Reformation, and we may be very sure that the 
men who were so prompt to sustain the new queen, 
would not have done so could they have foreseen the 
terrible trials which she was to bring upon their Church. 

543 



544 CROSS AND CROWN. 

Foremost among the towns of Suffolk in advocacy 
of and devotion to the Protestant cause was Hadleigh, 
an old rambling place on the river Breton, and consist- 
ing of a broad high street, lined with quaint old houses, 
and ascending sharply at the end farthest from the % river 
to Aldhani Common, and two other streets branching 
off from the main thoroughfare at right angles. In the 
very heart of the town stands the fine old church, and 
the ancient red brick rectory built in the reign of Henry 
VII. The churchyard is one of the greenest and sweetest 
in all England, and is famous not only for its beauty, 
but as the spot where Guthrum the Dane, who was 
converted to Christianity by King Alfred, was buried in 
the year 889. 

" The town of Hadleigh," says the good old John 
Foxe, " was one of the first that received the Word of 
God in all England, at the preaching of Master Thomas 
Bilney, by whose industry the Gospel of Christ had such 
gracious success, and took such root there that a great 
number of the parish became exceedingly well learned 
in the Holy Scriptures, as well women as men, so that a 
man might have found among them many that had often 
read the whole Bible through, and that could have said 
a great part of St. Paul's Epistles by heart, and very 
well and readily have given a godly learned sentence in 
any matter of controversy. Their children and servants 
were also brought up and trained so diligently in the 
right knowledge of God's Word, that the whole town 
seemed rather a university of the learned than a town 



ROWLAND TAYLOR. 545 

of cloth-making or laboring people ; and, what is more 
to be commended, they were for the more part faithful 
followers of God's Word in their living." 

Much of this excellence of life and doctrine was due 
to the labors and teachings of the most famous Vicar 
of Hadleigh, Dr. Rowland Taylor, whose memory is 
held so dear by the English Church. He had been a 
student at Cambridge when Bilney was a preacher there, 
and had learned the pure doctrine of Christ from him 
and from his friend and colaborer the good Hugh Lati- 
mer. Upon leaving Cambridge, he was made one of the 
chaplains of Archbishop Cranmer, by w r hom he was 
given the living of Hadleigh, in 1544. Dr. Taylor at 
once took up his residence in his parish, and soon en- 
deared himself to his people by his spotless life and his 
good works. He visited the sick, the poor, and the 
needy, and comforted and relieved their necessities, and 
he called regularly upon the rich clothiers and made 
them go with him to the almshouses, and see that 
everything needed there was provided. His example 
was all-powerful, and Hadleigh soon became a town 
" zealous for good works." John Foxe draws the fol- 
lowing exquisite portrait of the good vicar: 

" He was a right perfect divine and parson ; who at 
his first entering into his benefice, did not, as the com- 
mon sort of beneficed men do, let out his benefice to a 
farmer that shall gather up the profits, and set in an 
ignorant and unlearned priest to serve the cure, and, 

so they have the fleece, little or nothing care for feeding 
35 ' 



546 CROSS AND CROWN. 

the flock; but, contrarily, he forsook the Archbishop 
of Canterbury, Thomas Cranmer, with whom before he 
was in household, and made his personal abode and 
dwelling in Hadleigh, among the people committed to 
his charge ; where he, as a good shepherd, abiding and 
dwelling among his sheep, gave himself wholly to the 
study of the Scripture, most faithfully endeavoring 
himself to fulfil that charge which the Lord gave unto 
Peter, saying, ' Peter, lovest thou me ? Feed my lambs, 
feed my sheep, feed my sheep.' This love of Christ so 
wrought in him that no Sunday nor holy day passed, 
nor other time when he might get the people together, 
but he preached to them the Word of God, the doctrine 
of their salvation. 

" Not only was his word a preaching unto them, but 
all his life and conversation was an example of un- 
feigned Christian life and true holiness. He was void 
of all pride, humble and meek as any child ; so that 
none were so poor but they might boldly, as unto their 
father, resort unto him; neither was his lowliness 
childish or fearful, but, as occasion, time, and place re- 
quired, he would be stout in rebuking the sinful and 
evil doers; so that none was so rich but he would 
tell him plainly his fault, with such earnest and grave 
rebukes as became a good curate and pastor. He was 
a man very mild, void of all rancor, grudge, or evil will, 
ready to do good to all men, readily forgiving his 
enemies, and never sought to do evil to any." 

His very virtues made him odious to the Romanist 



ROWLAND TAYLOR. 547 

party, and when Queen Mary had fairly seated herself 
on her throne, and had begun the persecution of the 
Church, the priests resolved that Eowland Taylor 
should be silenced. A number of Roman Catholics 
residing in Suffolk armed themselves, took forcible 
possession of Hadleigh Church, and set a priest whom 
they had brought with them to saying Mass. Dr. 
Taylor promptly resented the intrusion of these people 
into his charge, and ordered them to depart. The Bo- 
man Catholics, being armed, were masters of the situa- 
tion. They drove out both the vicar and the people 
who sustained him, closed the doors of the church, had 
the Mass performed, and then lodged a complaint with 
the authorities against the vicar for having tried to stop 
the celebration of Mass in Hadleigh. Bishop Gardiner, 
delighted at having such a pretext, ordered Dr. Taylor 
to appear before him to answer to the charge. 

Well knowing what such a summons meant, Dr. 
Taylor's friends entreated him to fly from the kingdom, 
reminding him that Christ himself had counselled his 
disciples when they were persecuted in one city to take 
refuge in another. 

"lam old," replied the good pastor, " and have al- 
ready lived too long to see these wicked and most ter- 
rible days. Fly you, and do as your conscience leadeth 
you ! I know that there is neither justice nor truth to 
be looked for at my adversaries' hands ; but rather im- 
prisonment and cruel death. Yet know I my cause to 
be so good and righteous, and the truth so strong 



548 CROSS AND CROWN. 

upon my side, that I will, by God's grace, go and appear 
before them, and to their beards resist them. God will 
hereafter raise up teachers to His people, who will with 
more diligence and fruit teach them than I have done. 
He will not forsake His Church, though now for a time 
He trieth and correcteth us, and not without just cause. 
As for me, I shall never be able to do so good service, 
nor have so glorious a calling, nor so great a mercy of 
God proffered me, as at this present. Wherefore, I be- 
seech you, and all my other friends, to pray for me ; 
and I doubt not but God will give me strength, and 
His Holy Spirit, that all mine adversaries shall have 
shame of their doings." 

He did not delay his compliance with the summons, 
but soon set out for London, accompanied by a faithful 
servant, John Hull by name. Hull repeatedly im- 
plored his master during the journey to fly, offering to 
bear him company, and to risk life and liberty in the 
effort to get him safe out of the country. 

" John," said the pastor, gently, " remember the 
good Shepherd, Christ, which not alone fed His flock, 
but , also died for it. Him must I follow; and, with 
God's grace, will do. Therefore, good John, pray for 
me ; and if thou see'st me weak at any time, comfort 
me, and discourage me not in this my godly enterprise 
and purpose." 

In due time he came to London, and presented him- 
self before the Lord Chancellor, by whom he was re- 
ceived with insults and brutal taunts, Gardiner's usual 



ROWLAND TAYLOR. 549 

greeting to the Protestant clergy brought before him. 
Dr. Taylor heard him patiently, and at last when he 
paused, said quietly : 

" My lord, I am neither traitor nor heretic, but a 
true subject and faithful Christian, and am come accord- 
ing to your commandment, to know the cause of your 
lordship's sending for me." 

" Art thou come, thou villain ? " cried Gardiner 
wrathfully. " How darest thou look me in the face for 
shame ? Knowest thou who I am ? " 

" Yes," replied Dr. Taylor, looking him full in the 
face. " I know who you are, Dr. Stephen Gardiner, 
Bishop of Winchester, and Lord Chancellor, and yet 
but a mortal man. But if I should be afraid of your 
lordly looks, why fear you not God, the Lord of us all ? 
How dare you for shame look any Christian in the face, 
seeing you have forsaken the truth, denied our Saviour 
Christ and His "Word, and done contrary to your own 
oath and writing? With what countenance will you 
appear before the judgment seat of Christ, and answer 
to your oath made first unto King Henry, and after- 
wards unto Edward his son ? " 

" That was Herod's oath, unlawful," said the bishop, 
hastily, " and therefore worthy to be broken : I have 
done well in breaking it; and I thank God I am come 
home again unto our Mother, the Catholic Church of 
Rome ; and so I would thou shouldst do." 

Dr. Taylor told him that no man could absolve him 
from his oath, but that God would require it at his 



550 CROSS AND CROWN. 

hands; and Gardiner angrily called him an arrant 
knave and fool, and bade him hold his peace. 

" My lord," said the captive, " leave your unseemly 
railing ! for I am a Christian man ! and you know, he 
that sayeth to his brother, Raca, shall be in danger of 
the Council, but he that sayeth, Thou Fool, is in dan- 
ger of hell fire." 

" Thou art married," said Gardiner. 

" I thank God, I am," said the pastor, warmly, " and 
have had nine children." 

" Thou hast resisted the queen's proceedings," said 
Gardiner, " and would not suffer the minister of Aid- 
ham, Mr. John Avereth, a very virtuous and devout 
priest, to say Mass in Hadleigh." 

" My lord," said Dr. Taylor, firmly, " I am parson of 
Hadleigh, and it is against all right, conscience and 
laws, that any man should come into my charge, and 
presume to infect the flock committed unto me with 
the venom of the Popish idolatrous Mass." 

Gardiner here broke forth into a great rage, and 
taking off his cap, cried out : 

" Thou art a blasphemous heretic indeed, that blas- 
phemest the blessed sacrament, and speakest against 
the holy Mass, which is made a sacrifice for the quick 
and the dead." 

" Christ," said Dr. Taylor, undauntedly, " gave Him- 
self to die for our redemption upon the cross, whose 
body there offered was the propitiatory sacrifice, full, 
perfect, and sufficient unto salvation for all them that 
believe in Him." 



ROWLAND TAYLOR. 551 

The bishop at once summoned the guard, and said 
to them : 

" Take this fellow hence, and carry him to the 
King's Bench, and charge the keeper that he be straitly 
kept." 

Dr. Taylor knelt down on the floor, and holding up 
both hands, said : 

" Good Lord, I thank Thee ; and from the tyranny of 
the Bishop of Kome, and all his detestable errors and 
abominations, good Lord, deliver us : and God be 
praised for good King Edward." 

He was taken to the prison of the King's Bench, 
where he was kept a prisoner for nearly two years. 
He found there a fellow captive, who afterwards sealed 
his faith with his blood, John Bradford. Each looked 
upon the companionship of the other as an especial 
mercy of God vouchsafed to him, and during their long 
confinement, they did much to console and prepare: each 
other for their certain fate. 

In January, 1555, Dr. Taylor was again brought 
before the council, and being found steadfast in his 
faith, was sentenced to be burned alive as a heretic. 
He was then sent back to prison. 

About a week after this, Bonner, Bishop of London, 
accompanied by several priests, came to the prison to 
degrade him from the ministry. They brought with 
them the robes usually worn by a Romish priest during 
the celebration of the Mass. Dr. Taylor was called 
out into one of the rooms of the prison, where they 



552 CROSS AND CROWN. 

were waiting for him. As he entered, Bonner said to 
him: 

" Dr. Taylor, I wish you would remember yourself, 
and return to your holy Mother Church, and I will sue 
for your pardon." 

" I wish you and your fellows would turn to Christ," 
replied the pastor. " As for me, I will not turn to 
Antichrist." 

" Well," said the bishop, " I am come to degrade 
you." Pointing to the clothes he had brought with 
him, he said, " Put on these vestures." 

" No," said Dr. Taylor, " I will not." 

" Wilt thou not ? " exclaimed Bonner. " I shall 
make thee ere I go." 

■ " You shall not, by the grace of God," replied the 
prisoner. 

The bishop repeated his demand, but it was refused. 
He then called on the officers present to force the 
clothes on Dr. Taylor. The vestures were then put on 
the Doctor by the officers, and when this was done, 
Dr. Taylor placed his arms akimbo, and walking up 
and down the room said : 

" How say you, my lord ? Am not I a goodly fool ? 
How say you, my masters ? If I were in Cheapside, 
should I not have boys to laugh at these apish toys 
and trumpery ? " 

These words so infuriated Bonner that he raised his 
crozier to strike the Doctor, but one of the priests, no- 
ticing Taylor's resolute countenance, caught the staff, 
and cried out : 



ROWLAND TAYLOR. 553 

" My lord, strike him not, for he will certainly strike 



again." 



" Yea, by Saint Peter, will I," said B*\ Taylor ; " the 
cause is Christ's, and I were no good Christian if I 
♦would not fight in my Master's quarrel." 

Bonner then cursed him, and he answered quietly : 
" Though you curse me, yet doth God bless me." 
The ceremony of degradation was then performed, 
and the malice of the persecuting priests gratified to 
that extent, and the martyr was sent back to his prison. 
The keeper of the jail was a humane man, and know- 
ing that this was Dr. Taylor's last night in London, he 
gave him leave to have his wife with one of his sons, 
and the faithful John Hull, at supper with him. When 
the meal was ended, he passed some time in conversa- 
tion with his dear ones. He exhorted his son to lead 
a virtuous and godly life, and bade him remember that 
his father died in defence of lawful matrimony. He 
comforted his afflicted wife by telling her she had been 
a " faithful yoke-fellow " to him. She would soon be 
freed from this wedlock, he said, by his death, and he 
advised her to marry again as soon as God should pro- 
vide her an honest and religious man who would be a 
merciful father to her poor children. He said it was 
the only course for her and them that would bring 
them out of their troubles ; and he besought for them 
the blessing and protection of God. As for himself, he 
said, he was going to join the five children whom the 
Lord had taken from them to His own bosom, and 
whom he named. 



554 CROSS AND CROWN. 

The interview soon ended, and the martyr bade his 
wife and son, and his faithful servant, a tender fare- 
well, believing that this was the last time he would see 

# 

them on earth. 

Mrs. Taylor, suspecting that it was the purpose of 
the priests to remove her husband that night, went with 
one of her daughters and an orphan girl whom Dr. Tay- 
lor had adopted, and took her station in the porch of 
St. Botolph's Church, near Aldgate, by which she knew 
he must pass, in order to leave the city. It was about 
the first of February, and the weather was bitter cold, 
but the watchers remained at their post until two o'clock, 
when the trampling of feet announced the approach of 
the sheriff and his party. The sheriff was conducting 
his prisoner to the " Woolpack," an inn beyond the 
walls, where he was to deliver him to the Sheriff of 
Essex. It was very dark, and they were moving with- 
out lights, as the priests who ruled at court thought it 
best not to excite sympathy for the martyr by marching 
him openly through the streets of London. The. quick 
ears of the little orphan girl caught the sound of their 
footsteps, and she cried out : 

" Oh, my dear father ! Mother, mother, here is my 
father led away." 

Mrs. Taylor sprang to her feet, and called out in the 
darkness : 

" Rowland, Rowland, where art thou ? " 

" Dear wife, I am here," said the Doctor, stopping. 

The guards bade him move on, but the sheriff, who 



ROWLAND TAYLOR. 555 

was a humane man, ordered them to let him speak with 
his wife. Mrs. Taylor and the children then joined the 
Doctor, who took his daughter in his arms. Then they 
all knelt down and said the Lord's Prayer. The men 
were profoundly touched by the sad spectacle, and the 
sheriff wept audibly. As he rose to his feet, Dr. Taylor 
kissed his wife, and shaking her by the hand, said : 

" Farewell, my dear wife ; be of good comfort, for I 
am quiet in my conscience ; God shall stir up a father 
for my children." He then kissed his children, and 
exhorted them to be faithful in maintaining the true 
religion of Christ. 

" God be with thee, dear Rowland," said his wife. 
" I will, with God's grace, meet thee at Hadleigh." 

She followed them to the inn to which they were 
going, but the sheriff humanely refused to allow her 
another interview with her husband. He begged her 
to go to his own house, and to use it as if it were hers, 
assuring her that he would do all in his power for her 
comfort ; but at her request he sent her to her mothers, 
sending two officers to see her safely there, and to charge 
her mother not to allow her to go to Hadleigh. 

The Sheriff of Essex reached the " "Woolpack " about 
noon, and the martyr was delivered to him, and placed 
on horseback for the journey to Suffolk. As he came 
out of the inn, he saw John Hull with one of his (Dr. 
Taylor's) little sons waiting for him. The father 
called to his boy, and Hull put him up on the horse 
before him. 



556 CROSS AND CROWN. 

" Good people," he said, earnestly, to the crowd which 
had collected about the inn, " this is my own son, be- 
gotten in lawful matrimony — and God be blessed for 
lawful matrimony." He then prayed, for the boy, laid 
his hand on his head and blessed him, and gave him 
back to John Hull, whom he took by the hand, saying 
to him : " Farewell, John Hull, the faithfullest servant 
that man ever had." 

Then, in the charge of the Sheriff of Essex and four 
yeomen, he rode forth on his last journey. Upon reach- 
ing Brentwood, they put on him a close hood, with 
holes for the eyes and mouth, so that he might not be 
recognized on the way, so fearful were the authorities 
that some of the people to whom he had been so kind a 
friend would attempt to rescue him. Upon reaching 
Chelmsford, they halted for the night. At supper, the 
Sheriff of Essex earnestly entreated Dr. Taylor to be 
reconciled to Rome, assuring him that, if he would pro- 
mise to do so, a pardon should be obtained for him. 
The martyr's resolution was fixed, but he deemed it 
useless to argue the matter with those who had him in 
charge, so he said to the sheriff: 

" Mr. Sheriff, and my masters all, I heartily thank 
you for your good will ; I have hearkened to your words 
and marked well your counsels ; and, to be plain with 
you, I do perceive that I have been deceived myself, 
and am likely to deceive a great many of Hadleigh of 
their expectation." 

" God's blessing on your heart," said the sheriff, joy- 



ROWLAND TAYLOR. 557 

fully ; " it is the most comfortable word we have heard 
you speak yet." 

" Would you know my meaning plainly ? " continued 
Dr. Taylor. " Then I will tell you how I have been 
deceived, and, as I think, shall deceive a great many. 
I am, as you see, a man of very large body, which I 
thought should have been buried in Hadleigh church- 
yard, had I died in my bed, as I hoped I should have 
done ; but herein I was deceived ; and there are a great 
number of worms in Hadleigh churchyard, which would 
have had merry feeding upon me, but now I know we 
shall be deceived, both I and they ; for this carcass must 
be burned to ashes, and so shall they lose their bait." 

" When the sheriff and his company heard him say 
so," says Foxe, " they were amazed, and looked one on 
another, marvelling at his constant mind, without fear 
of torment or the death prepared for him." 

At Chelmsford Dr. Taylor was delivered to the cus- 
tody of the Sheriff of Suffolk to be conveyed to Had- 
leigh. On the borders of Suffolk they were met by a 
large number of Roman Catholic gentlemen, mounted 
and armed, who had been summoned to protect the 
sheriff and make sure of the prisoner in case of any 
popular outburst in favor of the latter. These gentlemen 
assured him that they had his pardon ready, if he would 
only return to Rome, but he refused to listen to them. 
They also promised him promotion to a bishopric if he 
would recant, but he only laughed at them. His eternal 
reward was too near at hand for such offers to move 



558 CROSS AND CEOWN. 

him in the least. The escort stopped two days at 
Lavenham, and did not reach Hadleigh until the 8th 
of February, 1555. As they drew near the place, the 
sheriff asked the martyr how he fared. " Never better," 
he answered, cheerily. " I am almost at home. I lack 
not past two stiles to go over, and am even at my 
Father s house." 

As they drew near Hadleigh, the anxiety of the 
Papists increased, for from every direction people were 
coming into the town. At the bridge over the river, 
by which they entered Hadleigh, they were met by a 
poor man with five small children. At the sight of 
their old friend, they fell upon their knees and held up 
their hands, and the man cried out : 

" 0, dear father, and good shepherd, Doctor Taylor, 
God help and succor thee, as thou hast many a time 
succored me and my poor children." 

The sheriff carried him straight on through the town 
without stopping. The high street was lined with the 
townsfolk and with people from the surrounding country, 
and as they beheld their dearly loved pastor they burst 
into tears, so that sobs and cries of sympathy and 
affection were heard from one end of the town to the 
other. 

" There goeth our good shepherd," they cried through 
their tears, "that so faithfully hath taught us, so fatherly 
hath cared for us, and so godly hath governed us! 
What shall become of this most wicked world ? Good 
Lord, strengthen him and comfort him ! " 



ROWLAND TAYLOR. 559 

They called out to him to give them his blessing. 
The sheriff sternly rebuked them for expressing their 
feelings, but they paid no attention to him. Dr. Taylor, 
said to them frequently, as he passed along : 

" I have preached to you God's word and truth, and 
am come this day to seal it with my blood." 

As he reached the Almshouses, he distributed among 
the inmates, who had so often been the recipients of his 
bounty, what was left of the money with which his 
friends had supplied him during his imprisonment. He 
carried it in a glove, and when he reached the last of 
the Almshouses, he asked whether the blind man and 
woman who formerly lived there were still living, and 
on being answered in the affirmative, threw the glove 
in through the casement, and rode on to Aldham Com- 
mon, passing up the steep lane which lies at the end 
of the town, and from which he could see for the 
last time the church in which he had so faithfully 
ministered. 

The sheriff told him he had now reached the place 
at which he was to die. 

"Thank God," he exclaimed, "I am at home." 

He rode up to the stake and alighted from his horse. 
Then he tore the hood from his head, and once again 
the people beheld the venerable countenance of their 
pastor. His hair had been roughly clipped at the time 
of his degradation by Bonner, but his long white beard 
remained, and his face was as calm and smiling as in 
the old time. The people burst into loud weeping 



560 CROSS AND CROWN. 

when they saw him, and many of them called out to 
him: "God save thee, Dr. Taylor! Jesus Christ 
strengthen thee, and help thee — The Holy Ghost com- 
fort thee." 

Dr. Taylor had been told at the time of his condem- 
nation that his tongue would be cut out unless he 
promised not to address the people at the stake, and to 
save himself this needless torture, he had given the 
required promise. Seeing how earnestly his people 
desired to hear his voice again, he now attempted to 
speak to them, but one of the guards thrust a staff into 
his mouth. He then asked leave of the sheriff to 
address the people, but the sheriff reminded him of his 
promise to the council! He then began to undress 
himself. Calling to a man named Soyce, he said: 
" Soyce, I pray thee come and pull off my boots, and 
take them for thy labor; thou hast long looked for 
them, now take them." Then he undressed himself 
to his shirt, and standing up, turned to the people and 
cried out to them in a loud voice : " Good people, I 
have taught you nothing but God's holy Word, and 
those lessons that I have taken out of God's blessed 
book, the Holy Bible : and I am come hither this day 
to seal it with my blood." At these words, a man 
named Holmes, a yeoman of the guard, who had treated 
Dr. Taylor very cruelly during the whole journey, 
struck him over the head with a staff, saying, " Is that 
keeping thy promise, thou heretic ? " 

Seeing that he could not speak to the people, Dr. 









ROWLAND TAYLOR. 561 

Taylor knelt down to pray. A poor woman advanced 
from the crowd, and knelt down at his side to pray with 
him. The guards tried to force her away, and even 
threatened to ride over her, but she would not stir, and 
continued to pray with him till he rose from his knees. 
When his prayer was finished he went up to the stake, 
and kissed it. Then he placed himself in the barrel 
prepared for him, and raising his/ eyes to heaven, 
became absorbed in prayer. 

The sheriff now ordered a butcher of the town to 
assist in setting up the fagots around the stake, but 
the man refused to have any hand in the murder of his 
pastor, even though the sheriff threatened to send him 
to prison. Four men were found to perform the work, 
however, and one of them threw a fagot at the martyr, 
which struck him in the face with such force as to 
bring the blood. 

"0 friend," said the sufferer, gently, "I have harm 
enough. What need of that ? " 

The martyr again began to pray. He repeated the 
fifty-first Psalm in English, at which Sir John Shelton 
struck him on the mouth, saying, u Ye knave, speak 
Latin, or I will make thee." 

Dr. Taylor made him no reply, and the fire was 

lighted. The martyr stood patiently, with his hands 

folded, and his lips moving in prayer, paying scarcely 

any attention to the flames that were scorching his poor 

body in every part. Soyce, the man to whom he had 

given his boots, enraged at his patience, seized a halbert, 
36 



562 CROSS AND CROWN. 

and clove him through the head, thus putting an end to 
his sufferings. 

The priests had hoped to terrify the people of Had- 
leigh into a union with their bloody Church, but the 
terrible spectacle of the martyrdom of Rowland Taylor 
had one effect only — to confirm the people of Suffolk 
and of all England in their hostility to the Pope. 



VI. 

RAWLINS WHITE. 

N the town of Cardiff, in Wales, on the banks of 
the River Severn, there lived in the reign of 
Henry VIII., a poor fisherman named Rawlins 
White. He was very poor, and was an indus- 
trious, hardworking man, toiling early and late for the 
scanty living which he earned for his family. He had 
been bred in the Roman Catholic faith, and had always 
been a religious man. Towards the close of King 
Henry's reign he began to pay attention to the religious 
controversies that were going on in the kingdom, and 
he at length became so much interested in them that 
all his spare time was given to listening to the conversa- 
tions of his neighbors with regard to the changes that 
were going on in the English Church. Little by little 
his old faith in the infallibility of the Romish Church 
began to be shaken by the new things he heard, and 
when he heard it openly proclaimed that the doctrines 
and practices of Rome were contrary to and in violation 
of God's holy Word, he was greatly distressed, for he 
was a conscientious man, and he sincerely desired to do 
the will of God. He was unlearned, and was not able 

to study the Bible for himself, and that book alone was 

563 



564 CROSS AND CROWN. 

able to settle all his doubts. In this dilemma he 
adopted the following expedient. He had a little son, 
a bright, intelligent child, and he resolved to make him 
the means of acquiring the knowledge he desired. . He 
sent the child to school, and had him taught to read 
English. When the child could read tolerably well, 
Rawlins purchased an English Bible, and every evening 
after supper he made his son read to him from the 
Sacred book. We may imagine the delight with which 
the good old man listened to the wor*ds of life, as they 
fell from the lips of his innocent boy. Night after night 
the reading was continued, the whole family gathering 
around the little reader, and drinking in with eagerness 
the pure stream of eternal truth and wisdom. By 
degrees the old man's doubts cleared up, and he was 
able to see that the religion of Jesus Christ was a very 
different thing from the superstitious belief and practice 
of his youth. The fisherman was possessed of an 
unusually retentive memory, and he was thus enabled 
to treasure up the lessons which his son read to him. 
Besides the Bible the boy read to his father such books 
as the old man could borrow or purchase, in explana- 
tion and support of the truths of Christianity. At last, 
it came to be generally admitted that Rawlins White, 
although unable to read, was one of the best Bible 
scholars in Cardiff. He was not satisfied with merely 
settling his own doubts, but he undertook to be a 
teacher to others of his station in life, and w r ould go 
from house to house exhorting and instructing his 



RAWLINS WHITE. 565 

friends and neighbors. Everywhere he went, he was 
accompanied by his little son, who carried the Bible in 
his arms, and read the passages to which his father 
referred. . 

He continued this practice all through the reign of 
Edward VI., but when Queen Mary came to the throne, 
he found it necessary to be more circumspect. Still he 
did not entirely cease his labors. He had been, under 
God, the means of converting many souls, and he* could 
not discontinue his work. He went about it with more 
caution, and he held his meetings with his friends who 
desired to take counsel with him, in retired places, and 
there he would pray with them, and lament with them 
over the evil days that had come upon the Church. 

But prudent as he was, he could not conceal his 
works from the Romanists, who were on the alert to 
detect and extinguish every spark of Protestantism in 
the land. They warned him that he would be punished 
for his heretical practices, and his friends, knowing that 
this warning was not an idle threat, urged him to seek 
safety in flight while it was yet in his power to do so. 
The fisherman himself knew that his life was in danger, 
but he was not willing to fly. It was a time when all 
men who held the true faith should stand bravely at 
their posts, and do what good they could. Moreover 
any weakness on his part might be the means of 
weakening the faith or the firmness of those whom he 
had been instrumental in converting. He told his 
friends plainly that while he thanked them for their 



566 CROSS AND CROWN. 

good will to him he could not find it in his heart to 
abandon his post, which would in his eyes be equivalent 
to a denial of his Master, Christ. " If I," said he, 
" should presume to deny my Master, He in the last day 
would utterly deny and condemn me ; and, therefore, I 
will, by His favorable grace, confess and bear witness 
of Him before man, that I may find Him in everlasting 
life." 

The Romanists did not lose sight of their victim, and 
very soon Rawlins White was arrested on a charge of 
heresy, and carried before the Bishop of LlandafF, who 
was then staying at Chepstow. After several examina- 
tions before the bishop and his chaplains, he was 
placed in Chepstow prison, from which he was conveyed 
to Cardiff Castle, where he remained for about a year. 
His friends were permitted to visit him regularly, and 
they supplied him with money and other necessaries. 
Indeed he was kept so negligently, that almost at any 
time during his imprisonment, he might have escaped, 
had he been willing to make the attempt. 

After an imprisonment of a year, he was brought 
again before the Bishop of LlandafF, at that prelate's 
country seat near Chepstow. The bishop endeavored 
to persuade him to renounce his opinions, and conform 
to Rome, but finding his efforts useless, he told Raw- 
lins sharply that he must make up his mind either to 
recant or die, and he remanded him to prison until a 
fixed day to reconsider his determination. On the ap- 
pointed day, the fisherman was again brought before 



RAWLINS WHITE. 567 

the bishop, who was seated in his chapel, surrounded 
by his chaplains and a number of the Roman Catholic 
gentry of the neighborhood. The bishop began the 
examination by telling him that the cause for which he 
was brought before him was that he was known to 
hold certain heretical opinions, and that by his instruc- 
tions he had led many persons into a similar error ; 
and he exhorted him to reflect upon the condition he 
was in, offering him pardon and liberty if he would 
recant. 

" My lord," replied the fisherman, boldly, " I thank 
God, I am a Christian man, and I hold no opinions 
contrary to the Word of God ; and if I do I desire to 
be reformed out of the Word of God, as a Christian 
ought to be." 

" Then," said the bishop, " we must proceed against 
you according to law, and condemn you as a heretic." 

" Proceed in your law, in God's name," said the un- 
daunted fisherman, " but for a heretic you shall never 
condemn me while the world stands." 

The hypocritical bishop, who had fully resolved to 
burn the poor fisherman, then turned to the company 
around him, and said : 

" Before we proceed any further with him, let us 
pray to God that He would send some spark of grace 
upon him, and it may so chance that God, through our 
prayers, will here turn his heart." 

" Ah, my lord," said Rawlins, " now you act well, 
and like a godly bishop ; Christ said, f Where two or 



568 CROSS AND CROWN. 

three are gathered together in my name, I will be in 
the midst of them." If your request be agreeable to 
His will, and ye pray as ye should pray, without doubt 
God will hear you, and I will pray also. I know that 
my God will both hear my prayer, and perform my 
desire." 

The whole assembly then fell on their knees. The 
bishop prayed as he had said, in a loud voice 5 but Raw- 
lins went apart by himself, and prayed silently. When 
they rose from their knees, the bishop asked him : 

" Now, Rawlins, wilt thou revoke thy opinions 
or not ? " 

"No, my lord," said the fisherman, " Rawlins you 
left me, and Rawlins you find me, and, by God's grace, 
Rawlins I will continue : certainly if your petitions 
had been just and lawful, God would have heard them; 
but you honor a false god, and pray not as ye should 
pray, and therefore God hath not granted your desire. 
But I am one poor, simple man, as ye see ; God hath 
heard my complaint, and I trust He will strengthen me 
in His cause." 

The bishop was very angry at these words, and 
rebuked the fisherman sternly for them. He then pro- 
ceeded to read the sentence, when one of the priests 
present interrupted him, and urged him to say a Mass 
first, and see what effect it would have upon the pris- 
oner. The bishop, pleased with the suggestion, then 
ordered the priest who had spoken to say Mass. This 
was done, and during the first part of the ceremony, 



RAWLINS WHITE. 569 

Rawlins withdrew to a private place, and gave himself 
up to silent prayer. As he heard the bell ring at the 
elevation of the host, he rose to his feet, came to the 
choir door, and said to the people present, in a loud 
voice : 

" Good people, if there be any brethren among you, 
or at least if there be but one brother amongst you, 
the same one bear witness at the day of judgment 
that I bow not to this idol." 

As he spoke., he pointed to the host which the priest 
was holding up for the adoration of all present. 

When Mass was ended, the bishop again called on 
Rawlins to recant, and again the faithful Christian 
man refused. The prelate then sentenced him to be 
burned alive as a heretic, and sent him to Cardiff, 
where he was confined in a dark and filthy dungeon 
until the time of his execution. The Romanists were 
eager to burn him at once, but the recorder of the 
town advised them to delay the execution until they 
could obtain the necessary warrant from London, 
which the queen's government would be only too glad 
to send them. The warrant was accordingly sent for, 
and in due time it reached Cardiff. 

During his last imprisonment, Rawlins had been con- 
stant in prayer and praise. Seeing that his end was 
near at hand, he sent a message to his wife, asking her 
to make him a wedding garment, meaning the shirt in 
which he was to be burned. The poor wife, with many 
tears, performed this last labor for him, and sent him 



570 CROSS AND CROWN, 

the garment on the morning of his execution. He re- 
ceived it joyfully, and, seeing that his hour was come, 
dressed himself in it and in an old russet-coat and a 
pair of leather boots. Thus arrayed, he went forth 
with the keeper of the prison to the gateway, where a 
strongly armed guard waited to conduct him to the 
stake. As he saw their weapons, he exclaimed : 

"Alas! what meaneth all this? By God's grace, I 
will not run away. With all my heart and mind I give 
God most hearty thanks that he hath made me wor- 
thy to abide all this for His holy name's sake." 

As he passed along, he saw his wife and children, 
standing, to see him go by, weeping bitterly. The 
sight of them moved him powerfully, and the tears 
gushed from his eyes. Then mastering himself, he 
beat his breast with his hand. 

".Ah ! flesh," he exclaimed, "hinderest thou me so? 
"Well, I tell thee, do what thou canst, thou shalt not, 
by God's grace, have the victory." 

Upon reaching the stake, around which the fagots 
had been heaped, he gazed at it calmly, and went for- 
ward towards it. Then kneeling down, he kissed the 
ground, as if to take leave of earth. A little dirt re- 
mained on his nose as he rose to his feet, and he re- 
moved it, saying : 

" Earth unto earth, and dust unto dust : thou art my 
mother, and unto thee shall I return." 

Then he went up to the stake and stood up against 
it, while a smith fastened him to it with a heavy chain. 
The martyr said to him : 









RAWLINS WHITE. 571 

li I pray you, good friend/ knock in the chain fast, 
for it may be the flesh will strive mightily ; but, God, 
of Thy great mercy, give me strength and patience." 

One of his most faithful friends, a young man named 
John Dane, who had visited him constantly in prison, 
was standing by him, and to him the martyr said : 

"I feel a great fighting between the flesh and the 
spirit, and the flesh would fain conquer, and therefore 
I pray you, if you see me tempted, hold your finger up 
to me, and I trust I shall remember myself." 

The officers then began to pile the wood up around 
the victim of the Komish Church, and to lay over the 
pile straw and reeds to make the fire burn quickly. 
Rawlins busied himself at the same time in arranging 
the straw and reeds close about his body, and in places 
where the fire would do its work most speedily. 

A pulpit had been erected in front of the stake, and 
a priest now ascended it, and began to address the 
crowd which had collected to witness the execution. 
Rawlins listened patiently until the speaker undertook 
to prove the doctrine of the real presence. Then the 
martyr rebuked him sternly, and so effectually that the 
priest was silenced. Orders were immediately given to 
fire the pile. The wood burned slowly but surely, 
and John Dane, who had held Rawlins by the hand all 
this time, was forced by the flames to bid him farewell 
and withdraw. The Martyr bore his sufferings with 
great patience. They were long and severe, for the 
fire burned away his legs before the rest of his body 



572 CROSS AND CROWN. 

was much hurt. Then he cried with a loud voice, 
" Lord, receive my soul ! Lord, receive my spirit ! " 
and his legs being consumed, his body fell over into the 
fire, and life was soon extinct. 

Thus died Rawlins White, a poor fisherman, passing 
up the same rugged road by which his great predeces- 
sors, the Fishermen of Galilee, entered into their 
Fathers House. 




VII. 

WILLIAM HUNTER. 

EYENTEEN miles and a half from London, as 
|H you go to Yarmouth, lies the little town of 
Brentwood, in the County of Essex, a plain and 
unattractive place, which has decreased rather 
than grown in size and importance. In the reigns of 
Henry YIII. and Edward YI. it was a large market 
and assize town. 

There dwelt in this place during this period a labor- 
ing man named Hunter, who was the father of a family 
of several children nearly all of whom were boys. 
These he reared, with the aid of his excellent wife, in 
the principles of the Reformation, taking every precau- 
tion in his power to guard them from the errors of Rome. 
He taught them to look to the Bible as their guide, and 
to shape their lives according to the teachings of God's 
holy Word. 

The eldest of these was a young man named Wil- 
liam, about nineteen years of age at the time of King 
Edward's death, and apprenticed to a merchant in Lon- 
don. He was an intelligent, industrious, and excellent 
young man in every respect, and his good qualities soon 
made him a favorite with his master. 

573 



574 CROSS AND CROWN. 

When Queen Mary had become firmly established 
upon her throne, the Romanist party in the Govern- 
ment threw off their thin mask of toleration, and began 
the persecution by which they hoped to make England 
once more a province of the Pope, but which resulted 
only in forever extinguishing their power in that king- 
dom. Orders were issued to the priests in charge of 
every parish, to summon their people to attend confes- 
sion and to receive the holy Communion at Mass on 
the approaching Easter. Those who refused to comply 
with this summons were to be reported to the bishop 
of the diocese in which they resided. Among the peo- 
ple thus summoned, was William Hunter. He refused 
to obey the order, and the parish priest threatened to 
cite him before the bishop. His employer, becoming 
alarmed at the danger of having a Protestant appren- 
tice in his house, begged William to quit his service for 
a time, and the young man accordingly left London, 
and went down to Brentwood, where he remained for 
about six weeks in his father's house. 

One day, finding the parish church open, he entered 
it, and seeing an English Bible chained to the lectern, 
as had been the practice in the previous reign, he began 
to read it. An officer of the Bishop's Court, happening 
to pass through the church, saw him engaged in this 
exercise, and sharply rebuked him for presuming to 
read the Bible. 

" William ! " he said, " why meddlest thou with the 
Bible ? Understandest thou what thou readest ? Canst 
thou expound Scripture ? " 



WILLIAM HUNTER. 575 

"I presume not to expound Scripture/' replied the 
young man; " but finding the Bible here, I read for my 
edification and comfort." 

The officer then went to the parish priest and in- 
formed him of the liberty William Hunter had taken 
in reading the Bible. The priest called the young man 
before him, and asked him : 

" Sirrah, who gave thee leave to read the Bible and 
expound it ? " 

William made him the same reply that he had given 
the officer, and was told by the priest that he had no 
business to meddle with the Scriptures. The young 
man then told the priest that he intended to read the 
Bible as long as he lived, and reproved him for dis- 
couraging that which the Scriptures themselves enjoined 
upon all persons as a duty. The priest told him angrily 
that he was a heretic, and upon his denying the charge, 
asked William his opinion concerning the corporal pre- 
sence in the Sacrament of the altar. William replied 
that he regarded the bread and wine as only figures, 
and looked upon the Sacrament as an institution in re- 
membrance of the death and sufferings of our blessed 
Lord and Saviour, Jesus Christ. The priest then pro- 
nounced him a heretic, and informed him that he 
would lodge a formal complaint against him with the 
bishop. 

There lived in the neighborhood a pompous justice 
of the peace, named Brown, a vain and ignorant man, 
and one very anxious to come into favor with the new 



576 CROSS AND CRO WN. 

Government. Hearing that William Hunter had denied 
the doctrine of Transubstantiation, he sent for the young 
man's father, and asked him where his son had gone. 
The old man assured him that he had not seen his 
son recently, and did not know where he was. The 
brutal magistrate then said to him that he would send 
him to prison if he did not produce his son within a 
given time. 

" Would you have me seek out my son to be burned ?" 
exclaimed the father, horrified at such a speech. 

The justice told him that was none of his business, 
and sent him out with a renewal of the warning, to find 
his son. Overcome with grief at the prospect before 
him, the old man wandered aimlessly about the town, 
and in the course of his w r alk came across his son by 
accident. 

" Are you seeking me, father ? " asked William. 

The old man burst into tears, and told William what 
the magistrate had required of him. The young man, 
in order to shield his father from danger, at once went 
back home and notified the magistrate of his presence 
there. The next day he was arrested arid taken before 
Justice Brown, who sent him with a letter, charging 
him with heresy, to Bonner, Bishop of London, in the 
custody of the constable. After delivering his prisoner 
to the bishop, the constable went back home. 

When the constable had gone away, Bonner caused 
William to be brought before him. 

" I understand, William Hunter, by Mr. Brown's 



WILLIAM HUNTER. 577 

letter," said he, " that you have had certain communi- 
cations with the Vicar of Welde about the blessed 
Sacrament of the altar, and that you could not agree, 
whereupon Mr. Brown sent for thee to bring thee to 
the Catholic faith, from which he saith thou art gone. 
Howbeit, if thou wilt be ruled by me, thou shalt have 
no harm for anything thou hast hitherto said or done in 
this matter. " 

" I am not fallen from the , Catholic faith of Christ, I 
am sure," said the lad, " but do believe it, and confess 
it with all my heart." 

" Why," said the bishop, " how sayest thou to the 
blessed Sacrament of the altar ? Wilt thou recant thy 
saying, which thou confessedst before Mr. Brown, that 
Christ's body is not in the Sacrament of the altar, the 
same that was born of the Virgin Mary ? " 

" My lord," replied William, " I understand that Mr. 
Brown hath certified you of the talk that he and I had 
together, and thereby you know what I said to him, 
which I will not recant, by God's help." 

" Then," said the bishop, adroitly, " I think thou 
art ashamed to bear a fagot, and recant openly ; but if 
thou wilt recant thy sayings, I will promise thee that 
thou shalt not be put to open shame ; but speak the 
word here now between me and thee, and I will promise 
thee it shall go no further, and thou shalt go home again 
without any hurt." 

" My lord," said William, " if you let me alone, and 

leave me to my conscience, I will go to my father and 
37 



578 CROSS AND CROWN. 

dwell with him, or else to my master again, and so, if 
nobody will disquiet nor trouble my conscience, I will 
keep my conscience to myself." 

" I am content," said Bonner, after considering a 
moment, " so that thou wilt go to the church and go to 
confession, and so continue a good Catholic Christian." 

" No," replied William, quickly, perceiving the trap 
which the crafty bishop had laid for him ; " I will not 
do so for all the gold in the world." 

" If you do not so," exclaimed Bonner, growing angry 
at his failure, " I will make you, sure enough, I warrant 

you." 

" You can do no more than God will permit you, w 
said William. 

The bishop then called two of his guard, and ordered 
them to set the young man in the stocks, which had 
been set up in his gatehouse. Here William was kept 
for two days and nights. The only food that was brought 
to him during this time was a crust of brown bread and 
a cup of water. He did not touch it, and when the 
bishop came to see him on the morning of the third day 
he found the scanty fare lying on the stocks untasted, 
and the prisoner calm and cheerful. Even the cruel 
Edmund Bonner was moved with admiration at the 
quiet heroism of the young man. 

" Take him out of the stocks," he said to the soldiers, 
•" and let him break his fast with you." 

The men released him, but declared he should not 
eat with them, as they would have nothing to do with 



WILLIAM HUNTER. 579 

a heretic. William told them that he was as loath to 
be in their company as they were to be in his. When 
he had finished his breakfast, the bishop sent for him, 
and again urged him to recant, but he answered that he 
would never deny his faith in Christ as he had confessed 
it before men. Bonner told him he was no Christian, 
but had denied the faith in which he was baptized. 

" I was baptized in the faith of the Holy Trinity," 
replied William, " which I will not go from, God assist- 
ing me with His grace." 

" How old are you ? " asked Bonner ; and upon Wil- 
liam's answering that he was nineteen, the bishop added : 
" Well, you will be burned before you are twenty, if 
you will not yield yourself better than you have done 

yet." 

"God strengthen me in His truth," exclaimed William. 

The bishop then sent him to the convict prison, and 
ordered the keeper to load him with as many irons as 
he could bear. He was kept in prison for nine months, 
during which period he was taken before the bishop 
nine times, and each time Bonner was completely baffled 
in his efforts to make him apostatize. On the 9th of 
February, 1555, he was taken before the consistory at 
St. Paul's, to receive his sentence. Here Bonner made 
a last effort to shake his constancy. He again asked 
him if he would recant, and was answered no. He then 
asked William if, when he said he believed he received 
Christ's body spiritually in the communion, he meant to 
say that " the bread is Christ's body spiritually?" 



580 CROSS AND CROWN. 

" I mean not so," replied William, " but rather, when 
I receive the holy communion rightly and worthily, I 
do feed upon Christ spiritually through faith in my soul, 
and am made partaker of all the benefits which Christ 
has brought unto all faithful believers through His pre- 
cious death, passion, and resurrection, and not that the 
bread is His body, either spiritually or corporally." 

" Dost thou not," said Bonner, cunningly, " think 
that, for example, here of my cap," holding it up, 
" thou may est see the squareness and color of it, and 
yet that not to be the substance which thou judgest by 
the accident ? " 

"If you can separate the accidents from the sub- 
stance," replied William, " and show me the substance 
without the accidents, I could believe." 

"Thou wilt not believe, then, that God can do any- 
thing above man's capacity," said the bishop, discon- 
certed by the happy reply of the young man. 

" Yes," answered the young man ; " I must believe 
that, for daily experience teacheth all men that plainly ; 
but our question is not what God can do, but what He 
will have us to learn in His holy Supper." 

"I have always found thee at this point," said 
Bonner, " and I see no hope to reclaim thee unto the 
Catholic faith, but thou wilt continue a corrupt mem- 
ber." He then sentenced him to be taken to Newgate 
prison and kept there for a while. After this, he was 
to be conducted to his native place, Brentwood, and 
burned at the stake. 






WILLIAM HUNTER. 581 

' There were other prisoners present, waiting to 
receive sentence for the same cause, and William was 
made to stand aside until these could be condemned to 
death. Then Bonner called him back, and said to him : 

" If thou wilt yet recant, I will make thee a freeman 
in the city, and give thee forty pounds in good money 
to set thee up in thine occupation ; or I will make thee 
steward of my house, and set thee in office ; for I like 
thee well, thou hast wit enough, and I will prefer thee 
if thou wilt recant." 

"I thank you for your great offers," answered Wil- 
liam Hunter ; " but, notwithstanding, my lord, if you 
cannot persuade my conscience with Scriptures, I 
cannot find in my heart to turn from God for the love 
of the world; for I count all worldly things but loss 
and dung in respect of the love of Christ." 

" If thou diest in this mind, thou art condemned 
forever," said Bonner. 

"God judgeth righteously, and justifleth them whom 
man condemneth unjustly," answered William. 

Bonner had conceived a sincere interest in the young 
man, whose patience, intelligence, and courage he could 
not help admiring, and he was willing to accept even a 
partial or equivocal recantation. But the young 
martyr would have no trifling with the truth, and the 
bishop sent him to the stake with sincere regret, for 
under all the ruffianly brutality of the " bloody bishop" 
there was a vein of coarse good nature which sometimes 
moved him to feelings of humanity. 



582 CROSS AND CROWN. 

William was kept in Newgate for about a month, 
after which he was sent down to Brentwood, to be 
burned. He reached the place on a Saturday. The 
next day was Sunday, and the day after Monday, 
the feast of the Annunciation of the Virgin Mary. The 
Komanists were unwilling to put him to death on either 
of these days, and therefore appointed Tuesday for his 
execution. He was kept at the village Inn in the 
custody of the sheriff to await that day, and his rela- 
tives and friends were allowed to visit him. His father 
and mother were the first to visit him, and they 
exhorted him not to waver, but to hold fast his faith 
even unto the end. His mother told him lovingly that 
she counted herself a happy woman to have borne a son 
who was able to lay down his life for Christ's sake. 

" For the little pain I shall suffer," said William, 
" which will soon be at an end, Christ hath promised 
me, mother, a crown of joy. Should you not be glad 
of that?" 

The mother fell on her knees, and taking his hand, 
said : 

" I pray God strengthen thee, my son, to the end ; 
yea, I think thee as well bestowed as any child I ever 
bore." 

Many of the young martyr's friends came to see 
him, during the three days that he remained at the 
Inn, and he reasoned with them, and warned them 
against the abomination of Popish superstition and 
idolatry. 



WILLIAM HUNTER. 583 

On Monday night, the night before his death, Wil- 
liam dreamed that he was taken to the place of execu- 
tion, which he thought was at the end of the town 
where the butts stood ; that as he went along he met 
his father, and that there was a priest at the stake who 
wanted him to recant, to whom he said, "Away, false 
prophet," and warned the people to beware of him. He 
made such a noise in his sleep that some of his friends 
who were with him, roused him and asked him what 
was the matter. In reply to them he related his 
dream, which, as we shall see, was singularly realized. 

The next morning the sheriff came to him and told 
him to prepare for his fate. The sheriff's son, also 
came to him, and took leave of him with tears. 

" William," said he, " be not afraid of these men 
with bows, bills, and weapons ready prepared to bring 
you to the place where you shall be burned." 

"I thank God I am not afraid," was the brave 
reply, "for I have reckoned what it will cost me 
already." 

William then took up his gown, and went out of the 
Inn, the sheriff's man servant leading him by one arm, 
and his brother Robert by the other. As he went 
along, he met his father, as he had done in his dream. 
The old man said to him, weeping : 

" God be with thee, son William." 

" God be with you, good father," he answered : " and 
be of good comfort ; for I hope we shall meet again, 
when we shall be joyful." 



584 CROSS AND GROWN. 

" I hope so, William," said his father, as he turned 
away, unable to bear the interview longer. 

As he had foreseen in his dream, the place appointed 
for the execution was at the end of the town where 
the butts stood. Upon reaching the place, and finding 
that all the preparations for burning him w r ere not 
completed, he took a wet fagot of broom, and knelt 
down upon it, and began to read the fifty-first Psalm 
from the prayer book which he carried in his hand. 
'When he came to the passage, " The sacrifices of God 
are a broken spirit; a broken and contrite heart, 
God, thou wilt not despise," he was rudely interrupted 
by a bystander named Tyrill, who cried out : 

" Thou liest, heretic ! thou readest false, for the words 
are ' an humble spirit. ' " 

" The translation saith a ' contrite heart/ " said 
William. 

" Yes," replied Tyrill, " the translation is false ; you 
translate books as you please yourselves, like heretics." 

" Well," said William, " there is no great difference." 

The sheriff now approached him, and said to him : 

" Here is a letter from the queen. If thou wilt re- 
cant, thou shalt live; if not, thou shalt be burned." 

" No," answered William, firmly, " I will not recant, 
God willing." 

He rose to his feet, and going up to the stake placed 
himself against it, and a bailiff fastened him to it with 
an iron chain. Mr. Brown, the magistrate who had 
sent him before Bonner, had come to gloat over his 



WILLIAM HUNTER. 585 

death, and he now declared, in a tone loud enough for 
William to hear him, that there was not wood enough 
about the stake to burn one of his legs. 

" Good people," said the martyr, turning to the as- 
sembled crowd, " pray for me, and make speed and dis- 
patch me quickly, and pray for me while you see me 
live, good people, and I will pray for you likewise." 

" Pray for thee ! " exclaimed Brown, brutally, " I will 
pray no more for thee than for a clog." 

" Mr. Brown," said William, "■ now you have that 
which you sought, and I pray God it be not laid to your 
charge in the last day ; howbeit, I forgive you." 

" I ask no forgiveness of thee," said the wretch. 

" Well," answered the martyr, " if God forgive you, I 
shall not require my blood at your hands." 

Then, seeing himself deserted of man, the young hero 
lifted up his eyes to Heaven, and cried, in his loneliness: 
" Son of God, shine upon me ! " The day had been dark 
and gloomy, and since the time of his arrival at the 
stake the sun had been obscured by a black cloud ; but 
as he spoke, it burst out from behind the cloud and blazed 
down upon his face with a radiance that dazzled him 
and caused him to turn his eyes away. 

A priest now advanced from the crowd, and handed 
Robert Hunter a book, and told him to give it to his 
brother, saying that it might induce him to recant ; but 
Robert would not touch the book, and the priest ap- 
proached to hand the book to the martyr, but William 
cried out to him, as he had done in his dream : 



586 CROSS AND CROWN. 

" Away, thou false prophet ! away ! Beware of them, 
good people," he added, addressing the bystanders, u and 
come away from their abominations, lest you be par- 
takers of their plagues." 

" Look how thou burnest here," shrieked the priest, 
in a rage ; " so shalt thou burn in hell ! " 

" Thou liest, false prophet," cried William ; " away! " 

A gentleman standing by, now cried out, boldly : " I 
pray God have mercy upon his soul ! " and immediately 
there was a general response of " Amen ! amen ! " from 
the throng. 

The fire was then kindled, and William tossed to his 
brother the prayer book which he had kept with him 
until then. 

" William," said his brother Robert, " think on the 
holy passion of Christ, and be not afraid of death." 

" I am not afraid," said the brave young martyr for 
Christ, cheerfully. Then the flames and smoke began 
to rise up around him, and he held up his hands toward 
Heaven and cried, earnestly : " Lord ! Lord ! Lord ! re- 
ceive my spirit ! " Then, wishing to shorten his suffer- 
ings, he bent down his head into the suffocating smoke 
and held it there, and so passed away to that land where 
sorrow and suffering are unknown. 







Bizjtop Ridley 

JBizrnc Cr.c r y.5.' A 1555 



SlSHDF ZA.TIMTER. 
:Bi i m ,' Oct . ^J5 th 1555. 



E n L\\ : S M EE\\ M E E § A Kl O M A ETYti 




VIII. 

HUGH LATIMER AND NICHOLAS RIDLEY. 

HE most extensive, and one of the loveliest of 
English views, is to be obtained from the 
h summit of Bardon Hill, in the great Charn- 
wood Forest, in Leicestershire. From this 
eminence nearly one fourth of all England is in sight. 
To the north and west, one may see the blue Malvern 
hills, the Wrekin, in Shropshire, and, so faint that 
they can hardly be discerned, the summits of some of 
the tall mountains of Wales. To the east, the gray 
towers of Lincoln Cathedral, sixty miles off, rise mis- 
tily against the horizon ; and to the south, eighty miles 
distant, is the dark outline of the Dunstable hills. Such 
a landscape as stretches away before the gazer is rarely 
to be met with, and it amply repays him for all the 
trouble of the journey to the point of view at the sum- 
mit of the hill. At the base of the hill is the thick 
Charnwood Forest, which once covered a circuit of 
twenty-five miles, and on the borders of this forest lies 
the charming little village of Thurcaston. It is as 
pretty a place as can be found in all England, with its 
shady lanes, its bright green grass plots, and its neatly 

trimmed hedge rows, glorious with the blossoming 

587 



588 CROSS AND CROWN. 

primrose and the milkwhite hawthorn flowers. „ Its 
cottages, grouped together in some localities, and stand- 
ing apart in others, seem to have been arranged by the 
hand of an artist. The ancient church, with its quaint 
monumental inscriptions, and the thickly filled grave- 
yard, all make up a picture which is well worth trans- 
ferring to canvass. 

In this pretty village, which then stood in the very 
centre of the great forest, there dwelt in the latter 
part of the fifteenth century, an honest yeoman, named 
Latimer, the father of six daughters, and one son, Hugh 
by name. " My father," said this son, in after years, 
" was a yeoman, and had no lands of his own, only he 
had a farm of three or four pounds by the year at the 
uttermost, and hereupon he tilled as much as kept half 
a dozen men. He had a walk for a hundred sheep, 
and my mother milked thirty kine. He was able, and 
did find the king a harness, with himself and his horse, 
and so he came to the place where he should receive 
the king's wages." 

The boy was trained by his father in the manly ex- 
ercises of the day, and was especially noted for his 
skill in handling the favorite weapon of the English — 
the long bow. As he showed unusual intelligence, his 
father kept him at school, gladly making the sacrifices 
necessary for this, in the hope that young Hugh 
would do credit to himself in a station better than that 
to which he had been born. When he was fourteen 
years old, Hugh passed from the grammar school at 



HUGH LATIMER AND NICHOLAS RIDLEY. 589 

Leicester to the University of Cambridge. Here he 
applied himself diligently to his task, and soon became 
noted for his studiousness. He was a great reader, and 
being unusually quick and fertile of intellect, he made 
his mark as he approached manhood, as one of the best 
informed students in the university. He gave great 
attention to the theological writers, and grew up to be 
a zealous and bigoted Komanist. He took the usual 
degrees, was ordained a priest, and in a little while so 
distinguished himself by his energetic opposition to the 
doctrines of the Keformation that he found favor with 
the authorities of the university. His oration upon 
taking his degree of bachelor of divinity, was a bold 
and able attack upon Melanchthon and his teachings. 
Not content with this, he openly opposed Stafford, the 
lecturer on divinity, attending the lectures in person, 
and warning the students to beware of the teachings 
of " Master Stafford," who was a disciple of the Refor- 
mation. The authorities were so pleased with his zeal 
in behalf of Romanism that they made him cross- 
keeper to the university, his duty being to bear the 
cross at the head of the official processions of the 
university. As for Latimer himself, his chief desire 
was to become a friar, and he thought that he who 
dared to dispute the infallibility of the Pope had no 
chance of salvation. He was an earnest, honest man, 
one who could not rest satisfied with halfway measures, 
and who shrank from no sacrifice in the discharge of 
what he regarded as his duty. 



590 CROSS AND CROWN. 

It happened that at this time Thomas Bilney, the 
martyr, one of the noblest and purest characters in the 
history of Christianity, was residing at the university. 
He had heard Latimer's oration against Melanchthon, 
and had been deeply impressed by the power and the 
earnestness of the orator. He watched him closely, 
and the more he saw of him the deeper his interest in 
him became. He saw in Latimer a brave, honest 
hearted, and gifted man, who would make a noble and 
efficient soldier of Christ if he could be made to see 
the truth, and Bilney resolved that he would save this 
great soul from the errors of Rome. His was a gentle, 
loving disposition, and he was not slow in winning the 
friendship of Latimer. This much gained, he pro- 
ceeded quietly and judiciously to place the truths of 
the Gospel before his friend, and to enforce them with 
the arguments and persuasions best suited to the char- 
acter of the man with whom he was dealing. He was 
entirely successful. Latimer's keen intellect rapidly 
mastered the difficult questions, and his honest heart 
readily admitted the truth. Little by little he saw the 
error of his former belief. Little by little he saw how 
Rome had gone astray from Christ, and had destroyed 
the religion of the Saviour and set up one of her 
own invention. At last he came with Bilney to 
acknowledge but one Mediator between God and man — 
Jesus Christ — and to accept His great sacrifice once 
offered as the only atonement necessary or possible for 
sin. His intellect and his heart were both convinced, 



HUGH LATIMER AND NICHOLAS RIDLEY. 591 

and he became a sincere convert to the doctrines which 
he had opposed, a champion of Christ instead of a par- 
tisan of the Pope. He went at once to Master Stafford, 
the divinity lecturer, whom he had opposed with such 
vehemence, acknowledged his errors, and begged for- 
giveness. 

Latimer was not a man to remain idle now that he 
had seen and felt the truth. He had given himself to 
the work of preaching, and he meant to continue it, 
and to preach henceforth the Gospel of Jesus Christ. 
He was now approaching middle age, and his character 
and mind had been formed, so that he was not likely to 
prove a rash venturer in the great work which he pro- 
posed to himself. Moreover, he was recognized by all 
parties as one of the ablest men in the university. The 
Romanists resented his separation from them with great 
bitterness, and the Reformers were delighted to gain so 
powerful an ally. He made the Holy Bible his chief 
study, and when he had stored his mind with its great 
lessons and precious principles, he went out into the 
streets and lanes of Cambridge and the neighboring vil- 
lages, and gathering the common people around him, 
preached to them the " truth as it is in Jesus." He spoke 
to them in the simple, homely language they were accus- 
tomed to use among themselves, and thus won their confi- 
dence and friendship, and converted many of them to the 
faith of Christ. If he chanced to encounter learned and 
educated men, he at once adapted his discourse to them, 
and preached to them with a force of logic which they 



592 CROSS AND CROWN. 

could not resist. To both classes bis message was the 
same. He taught that our blessed Saviour had made 
the only full, perfect, and sufficient sacrifice and atone- 
ment for sin possible, and that it was only through re- 
pentance and faith in Him and the leading of a godly 
life, that men could obtain salvation. Mere forms aud 
ceremonies, masses and absolutions, almsgivings and 
outward observances were not sufficient. Having been 
a priest of the Romish Church himself, he knew, and 
could appreciate the depth and completeness of the 
ignorance and superstitious bondage in which Rome 
held his poor, unlearned countrymen, and his most 
earnest wish was to be the means of delivering them 
from this thraldom, and bringing them into the light 
of the Gospel. He preached in a " strange, quaint 
fashion, partly peculiar to the manners of those days, 
and partly to his own quaint and original turn of mind. 
In his sermons he was by turns argumentative, imagi- 
native, fanciful; now pathetic, then witty, and even 
humorous ; sometimes dealing forth the most sharp and 
cutting rebukes; sometimes breathing forth the most 
gentle or affecting remonstrances. He illustrated the 
truths he taught by striking and familiar stories ; mix- 
ing up severity with sweetness, terrors with tenderness. 
But through all his sermons strong and manly sense is 
conspicuous ; in all his sermons he preached Christ and 
the principles and practice of the truth as it is in 
Jesus, with pure and scriptural clearness." 

The powerful -sermons of the great preacher produced 



HUGH LATIMER AND NICHOLAS RIDLEY. 593 

a profound effect upon the university, and the Romanists 
were sorely troubled by them. The matter was reported 
to the Bishop of Ely, who came unexpectedly to St. 
Mary's, the University Church, one Sunday, after Lati- 
mer had begun his sermon. Latimer ceased speaking 
as the bishop entered, and remained silent until he and 
his attendants had taken their places. Then, taking a 
new text, he began a new sermon, setting forth Jesus 
Christ as the true pattern of a Christian bishop. Dr. 
West, the Bishop of Ely, was astonished at the force 
and vigor of the sermon, and after service was over, 
called Latimer to him and thanked him for his sermon, 
telling him he had never heard the duties of his office 
so forcibly set forth before. He then asked Latimer to 
preach him a sermon against Luther and his doctrine. 

" I am not acquainted with the doctrine of Luther,'' 
replied the preacher, " neither are we at Cambridge per- 
mitted to read his works. What I have preached is no> 
man's doctrine, but the doctrine of God out of the Scrip- 
tures. If Luther do none otherwise than I have done> 
there needeth no confutation of his doctrine. Otherwise, 
when I understand that he doth teach against the Scrip- 
tures, I will be ready, with all my heart, to confound 
his doctrine as much as lieth in me." 

" Well, well, Master Latimer," said the bishop, 
sharply ; " I perceive that you smell somewhat of the 
pan ; you will repent this gear one day." 

The bishop then forbade him to preach in any of 

the university churches, from that day forward. Dr. 

38 



594 CROSS AND CROWN. 

Barnes, the Prior of the Augustines,. who was earnestly 
seeking after the truth, and who afterwards went to the 
stake for his faith, invited Latimer to preach in the 
church of his priory, over which the Episcopal jurisdic- 
tion did not extend. Latimer accepted the invitation, 
and the Bishop of Ely went often to this chapel to hear 
him preach, declaring that he had never heard such 
a powerful pulpit orator. 

Failing to silence him, the most violent of his Romish 
enemies formally accused him before Cardinal Wolsey 
of heresy. Wolsey summoned the preacher to answer 
to the charge. "When Latimer appeared before him, 
the cardinal was surprised to see a man advanced in 
life, and of grave and thoughtful demeanor. Upon 
questioning him and his accusers, Wolsey found Latimer 
to be much better acquainted with the theology of the 
Romish Church than his enemies, and expressed his sur- 
prise and pleasure at the great learning of the preacher. 

" I pray thee," said he, " tell me why the Bishop of 
Ely and others do mislike thy proceedings ; tell me the 
.truth." 

" Ever since I preached before his lordship on the 
office and duties of a bishop, taking for my text, * Christ 
being come, an High Priest of things to come/ his Grace 
of Ely can never abide me," answered Latimer. 

" I pray you, tell me what thou didst preach before 
him on this text," said the cardinal, curiously. 

Latimer immediately gave the great minister an 
abstract of his sermon, keeping back nothing. 






HUGH LATIMER AND NICHOLAS RIDLEY. 595 

" Did you preach any other doctrine than you have 
rehearsed ? " asked Wolsey. 

" No, surely," replied Latimer. 

The cardinal then questioned the accusers as to their 
objections against Latimer. Then turning to the latter, 
he said : 

" Master Latimer, if the Bishop of Ely cannot abide 
such doctrine as you have here repeated, you shall have 
my license, and shall preach it unto his beard, let him 
say what he will." 

He then admonished him to be cautious, and not to 
undertake to teach heresy, and dismissed him with a 
license to preach wherever he liked in England. 

Latimer then went back to Cambridge, and on the 
first holiday after his return astonished the whole uni- 
versity by appearing in his pulpit and showing his license, 
for all supposed that he had been ordered to be silent. 
After Wolsey's downfall, the preacher's enemies asserted 
that his license was at an end. He replied from the 
pulpit : 

" Ye think my license decayeth with my lord Cardi- 
nal's temporal fall. I take it nothing so ; for he being, 
I trust, reconciled to God from his pomps and vanities, 
I now set more by his license than ever I did before 
when he was in his most felicity." • 

In company with Bilney and Dr. Barnes, Latimer 
now devoted himself more earnestly than ever to the 
study of the Scriptures. This labor was blessed with 
great success by the Almighty, for Dr. Barnes was con- 



596 GROSS AND CROWN. 

verted to Protestantism by this study. On the Sunday 
before Christmas, 1525, Barnes preached a sermon in 
St. Edward's Church, for which he was accused of 
heresy. The sermon, however, was the means of 
inducing a large number of the best men in the uni- 
versity to come forward and avow themselves Protes- 
tants. It was a great and glorious awakening, and it 
filled the Romanists with anger and alarm. They 
endeavored to silence the preachers, particularly Lati- 
mer, but without success. 

About this time the question of Henry's divorce 
from Catharine of Arragon was submitted to the Uni- 
versity of Cambridge, which returned its answer on the 
9th of March, 1530. The next Sunday, Latimer was 
called on to preach before Henry VIII., at Windsor 
Castle. The king was very much pleased with his 
sermon, and is said to have presented him with the 
sum of five pounds at the close of the service. Upon 
his return to Cambridge he was selected as one of 
twelve of the most learned men in the university, to 
consult with twelve similar men from Oxford concern- 
ing the prohibition of the reading of the Scriptures 
and other religious books in English. The commission 
recommended the prohibition, which was enforced by a 
royal proclamation. Latimer, who had been overruled 
in the commission, then addressed a vigorous protest to 
the king against the prohibition, and implored him 
not to keep the English Bible from the people. Strange 
to say, Henry took no offence at this faithful remon- 



HUGH LATIMER AND NICHOLAS RIDLEY 597 

strance, and even made Latimer one of his chaplains. 
He enjoyed the especial favor of Anne Boleyn, and was 
lodged with his particular friend, Dr. Buttes, the king's 
physician. In the court of one of the most despotic of 
kings, the preacher preserved his independence. He 
was not pleased with his new position, however, and 
when he was offered the living of West Kington, in 
Wiltshire, he accepted it, preferring the curacy of a 
country parish to the chaplaincy of a profligate 
Court. 

He did not confine his labors to his own parish. 
Being licensed to preach where he listed, he went about 
the country, preaching at various places. At Hales, a 
town near West Kington, was a vial said by the priests 
to contain the blood of the Saviour, and which was 
visited by many pilgrims. Reference has been made to 
it elsewhere in these pages. Latimer denounced the 
trick practised by the priests in charge of this so-called 
miraculous blood, and thus drew upon himself the 
bitter hostility of the Romanists. He regarded all 
these superstitious observances as, the work of the devil, 
against which it was his duty to watch and preach 
unceasingly. " There is one," said he, in one of his 
sermons, " that is the most diligent prelate and 
preacher in all England ; and will ye know who it is ? 
I will tell you. It is the devil. He is the most diligent 
preacher of all others, he is never out of his diocese, he 
is never from his cure, ye shall never find him unoccu- 
pied ; he is ever in his parish, he keepeth residence at 



598 CROSS AND CROWN. 

all times, ye shall never find him out of the way ; call 
for him when you will, he is ever at home, the dili- 
gentest preacher in all the realm; he is ever at his 
plow, neither lordling nor loitering can hinder him, he 
is ever applying his business, ye shall never find him 
idle, I warrant you. But his office is to hinder religion, 
to maintain superstition, to set up idolatry, to teach all 
kind of popery; where the devil is resident, that he 
may prevail, he adds, with all superstition and idolatry, 
censing, painting of images, candles, palms, ashes, holy 
water, and new services of man's inventing, as though 
man could invent a better way to honor God with than 
God himself hath appointed." 

The Romanists could not bear such sermons as these, 
and they lodged a formal charge of heresy against him 
with Stokesley, Bishop of London, who cited him to 
appear before him to answer to it. He appealed to the 
authorities of his own diocese, that of Sarum, but his 
enemies obtained a summons from the Archbishop of 
Canterbury, requiring him to come up to London to 
answer to the charges against him. His friends urged 
him to take refuge in flight, but he refused to do so, 
and, although suffering much from sickness, he went 
up to London in the depth of the winter, his greatest 
fear being that during his absence from his parish some 
popish emissary would endeavor to undo the work he 
had begun among his people. 

Upon reaching London he found himself in a position 
of great danger. The Romanists were determined to 



HUGH LATIMER AND NICHOLAS RIDLEY. 599 

ruin him, and upon his refusing to submit to their con- 
ditions, he was excommunicated and sent to prison. 
His friends, however, succeeded in interesting the king 
in his behalf, and at Henry's especial request, the 
sentence of excommunication was removed, and he was 
suffered to go back to his parish. The next year, 
1532, he was again accused of heresy, but his friend 
Cranmer was now Archbishop of Canterbury, and he 
thoroughly understood and appreciated Latimer, and 
he protected him against the priests. In order to 
rescue him from the attacks of his enemies, Queen 
Anne Boleyn and Lord Cromwell advised the king to 
confer upon him the vacant see of Worcester. The 
king at once appointed him to this dignity, and he was 
consecrated bishop. He hoped in accepting this office 
not only to secure himself against the malice of his 
enemies, but also to extend the sphere of his usefulness 
in the Church. He at once entered upon his episcopal 
duties, making many needed and excellent reforms in 
his diocese. In 1536, he was summoned to Parliament. 
He was appointed by Cranmer to preach the sermon 
before the Convocation, which he did with more than 
his usual eloquence and power. He gave a hearty 
support to the measures of the archbishop, and though 
he and Cranmer met with great opposition from the 
Romanists, he had the happiness of contributing in a 
marked degree to the spread of the Reformation, and 
was instrumental in procuring the translation of the 
Bible into English and in causing it to be recommended 



600 CROSS AND CROWN. 

by the king and the Church for general reading by the 
people. 

Neither his high honors nor the splendor of the 
Court, of which he now formed a part, could make him 
other than he had always been — the simple minded, 
straight forward, plain spoken preacher of the truth. 
" For the plain simplicity of life," says Bishop Burnet, 
" he was esteemed a truly primitive bishop and Chris- 
tian." It is related of him that upon the New Year 
following his call to Court, he went with the other 
dignitaries of the land to make the customary New 
Year's offering to the king. The courtiers gave rich 
and costly presents, but when it came to Latimer's 
turn, the honest and fearless bishop handed Henry 
VIII. a copy of the New Testament, with a leaf turned 
down to mark the passage, " Whoremongers and 
adulterers God will judge ! " 

One of his most uncompromising enemies was Bishop 
Gardiner, the devoted champion of the Komish Church. 
On one occasion, he charged Bishop Latimer, in the 
king's presence, with preaching sedition before the 
king. Henry, quick to anger, sharply bade Latimer 
explain his conduct. The old man bluntly asked 
Gardiner to tell him how he was to preach, and then 
turning to Henry, said to him, respectfully, but boldly : 

" I never thought myself worthy, nor did I sue, to 
be a preacher before your Grace, but I was called to it, 
and am willing, if you mislike me, to give place to my 
betters; for I grant there are a great many more 






HUGH LATIMER AND NICHOLAS RIDLEY. 601 

worthy than I am ; and if it be your Grace's pleasure 
so to allow them for preachers, I would be content to 
bear their books after them ; but if your Grace allow 
me for a preacher, I would desire your Grace to 
give me leave to discharge my conscience, and give 
me leave to frame my doctrine according to my au- 
dience. I had been a very dolt to have preached so 
at the borders of your realm as I preach before your 
Grace." 

Latimer was very careful that the Bible in English 
should be put in the hands of the people of his diocese, 
for he believed the reverent and diligent reading of the 
Scriptures to be the true cure of the numerous super- 
stitions with which Rome had covered the land. One 
of his earliest acts as bishop was to order the prior 
of the convent of St. Mary's House, in Worcester, to 
provide a Bible in English, " to be laid fast chained in 
some open place, either in the church or cloister of the 
monastery." 

He did not hold his bishopric long. The Six Arti- 
cles having passed the Houses of Parliament, in spite 
of the efforts of himself and the other Reformers, he 
resigned the bishopric of Worcester. He retired from 
the Court into the country, but having been severely 
injured by a fall from a tree, was obliged to return to 
London for medical advice. This brought him once 
more in contact with his old enemy, Bishop Gardiner, 
who charged him with having spoken against the Six 
Articles, and procured his arrest and subsequently his 



602 CROSS AND CROWN. 

commitment to the Tower, where he remained, a 
prisoner until the death of Henry VIII. 

Upon the accession of King Edward VI. to the 
throne, the Reformers came into power. Bishop Lati- 
mer was set at liberty, and taken into the especial 
favor of the king. He often preached before the 
sovereign at St. Paul's Cross. Pie was offered his 
bishopric again, but he declined to accept it, pleading 
his great age and infirmity. He devoted himself, how- 
ever, with great eagerness and activity to the preach- 
ing of the pure Gospel, and to the performance of 
many duties for the spread and establishment of the 
Reformation. At the especial request of his friend 
Cranmer, he took up his residence at Lambeth Palace. 
He devoted himself chiefly to the lower orders of the 
poor, and his labors among them were so constant and 
successful that they came to regard him as their best 
friend and most zealous champion. During his resi- 
dence at Lambeth Palace he assisted Cranmer in the 
preparation of the Homilies, some of which he wrote 
himself. 

He was now over sixty seven years of age, and was 
very infirm in body, but his mind was still vigorous 
and his will indomitable. He rose every morning, 
winter and summer, at two o'clock, and began his 
studies. Then he devoted a considerable time to 
prayer. There " were three principal matters that he 
especially prayed for," says Augustine Bernher, his 
devoted attendant, u the first, that, as God had ap- 



HUGH LATIMER AND NICHOLAS RIDLEY. 603 

pointed him to be a preacher and professor of His Word, 
go also He would give him grace to stand unto his doc- 
trine until his death. The other thing, the which most 
instantly with great violence of God's Spirit he de- 
sired, was, that God of His mercy would restore the 
Gospel of His Son Christ unto this realm of England 
once again • and these words, ' once again, once again/ 
he did so inculcate and beat into the ears of the Lord 
God, as though he had seen God before him, and spake 
unto Him face to face. The third petition was for the 
preservation of the queen's majesty that now is, namely, 
the Lady Elizabeth, whom in his prayer he was wont 
to name, and even with tears desired God to make her 
a comfort unto this comfortless realm of England." 

" Standing by the old gray towers of Lambeth 
Palace," says a recent writer, " I have thought upon 
the great and godly men who sojourned there in those 
eventful times. Hefe, perchance, in this now desolate 
and silent room, when the slant rays of the rising sun 
shot through that narrow casement and quivered on 
the wall of its deep embrasure, good Father Latimer 
put out his lamp, for the pure lovely light from heaven 
fell on the broad pages and brazen clasps of his open 
Bible; and the old man took off his spectacles and 
rose up to throw open the casement, to look out upon 
the glistening waters of the broad' Thames, and to 
breathe the morning air, freshened with the rushing 
tide of the full river. Here he stood, his heart swel- 
ling with love to the Giver of all good, thanking, and 



604 CROSS AND CROWN. 

praising him for the blessings of light and air, so un- 
heeded by many, because so common to all, but pre- 
cious to those who, like himself, had been the inmates 
of a close prison. Here he stood, the light breeze 
playing with his silver hair, and fluttering in the 
leaves of his book, till the rustling sound called him 
back to his delightful studies. 

"And now again he rises, as the accustomed sound 
of the chapel bell meets his ear ; and the door opens, 
and his faithful friend and servant, Augustine Bernher, 
enters, and helps his infirm master to don his gown, 
and takes down his square cap from the pin on the 
wall, and puts his staff into his hand. They have left 
the chamber, and their footfall in the old corridor is 
more faintly heard as they descend to the chapel below. 
And now there is a friendly greeting between the good 
old Latimer and the grave and gentle Cranmer, as they 
meet in the ante-chapel, and enter together that 
ancient and beautiful building, so pure a specimen of 
the noble architecture of far distant times. We hear 
the voice of that godly assembly pouring forth the 
fervent devotions of their hearts in the simple and 
solemn liturgy, the prayer and the response, in which 
all take their part, and offer aloud, in that interchange 
of voices, the sacrifice of prayer and praise. All the 
household are present : the Mistress Cranmer, the niece 
of Osiander (her husband's friend), and the children of 
the primate, and certain learned foreigners, his frequent 
guests, with Master Morice, his secretary, and many 



HUGH LATIMER AND NICHOLAS RIDLEY. 605 

serving men and women of staid and cheerful demeanor, 
— in all a goodly company, whose devout and earnest 
looks when the Holy Scriptures are read seem to say, 
■ Now, therefore, we are all here present before God to 
hear all things that are commanded thee of God.' The 
morning service is over, and the company dispersed : 
but we find the godly Father Latimer soon after, not in 
his chamber, but on the broad level walk of this once 
beautiful garden, when smoke and gas had not black- 
ened the stems of the stately trees, and poisoned the 
atmosphere. The dew lies on the tender blades of the 
fresh grass, and the deep green leaves wave in the 
stirring breeze; the rose bushes are bursting into flower 
and fragrance, and the nightingale's rich song fills the 
air with music. 

" There the old man walks alone, at no great distance 
from that ivy mantled wall, his book in his hand, and 
listens from time to time, as he passes the little door in 
the wall ; for there a knock is often heard, the knock 
of some poor or long persecuted one, to whom he lifts 
the latch and gives admittance, that he may hear with 
patient thoughtfulness the tale of trouble, and use his 
influence — an influence then of powerful interest with 
the youthful king — to see that the cause is righted, or 
that relief is given." 

When Queen Mary came to the throne Bishop Lati- 
mer knew that evil days were in store for him. He 
had been too brave and successful a champion of the 
Reformation to escape the wrath of the Romanists now 



606 CROSS AND CROWN. 

that the power had passed into their hands. He left 
Lambeth, and went into the country, on a visit to his 
friend John Old, Vicar of Cubbington, in the neighbor- 
hood of Coventry. Soon after his arrival there, a poor 
weaver, whom he had befriended, came down to Cub- 
bington, in great haste to beg him to fly. The royal 
officers, with the queen's warrant, were on their way 
to arrest Bishop Latimer, and he had beaten them by 
six hours, to give timely warning to his benefactor. 
There was full time to escape, but the preacher resolved 
to face the enemies of Christ. When the royal mes- 
senger arrived, he found Latimer ready for his 
journey. 

" My friend," said the aged bishop to the astonished 
officer, " you be a welcome messenger to me ; and be it 
known unto you and to the whole w r orld, that I go as 
willingly to London at this present, being called by my 
prince to render a reckoning of my doctrine, as ever I 
went to any place in the world. And I doubt not but 
that God, as He hath made me worthy to preach his 
word before two princes, so will He enable me to 
witness the same unto the third, either to be a comfort 
or discomfort eternally." 

To the great surprise of the bishop, the officer, as 
soon as he had delivered his summons, abruptly 
departed, without making any effort to arrest him. 
The inference is that the Romanists, knowing the 
popularity of Latimer, dreaded to undertake his perse- 
cution lest they should thereby injure their cause ; and 



HUGH LATIMER AND .NICHOLAS RIDLEY 607 

were desirous that he should be frightened into escaping 
into some foreign country. Fear, however, had never 
formed a part of good Hugh Latimer's nature, and he 
resolved to go up to London at once, and face his per- 
secutors. Accordingly he set off, and upon reaching 
the capital, presented himself before the Council. He 
was received with taunts and abuse, and was com- 
mitted to the Tower to await his trial. It was the 
winter season, and his prison was very cold. He 
suffered much in consequence of this, being kept with- 
out a fire. He only obtained a betterment of his con- 
dition in this respect by telling the Lieutenant of the 
Tower that he would die and escape the stake if he 
were not allowed a little fire. From the Tower he was 
conveyed to the Bocardo prison at Oxford, where he 
was lodged in company with his friends Archbishop 
Cramner, and Bishop Ridley. 

Nicholas Ridley, unlike Latimer, was of gentle 
parentage. He was born at "Willimoteswick, in North- 
umberland, in the year 1500, and was educated at 
Newcastle-upon-Tyne and Pembroke Hall at the Uni- 
versity of Cambridge. From Cambridge he went to 
Paris and Louvain to complete his studies, after which 
he returned to Cambridge, and was made proctor of the 
university, in which capacity he signed the decision of 
the university that the Pope had no jurisdiction over 
the kingdom of England. He became at an early day 
a diligent student of the Scriptures, and by degrees his 
mind was awakened to the errors of Rome, and he 



608 CROSS AND CROWN. 

began to study the doctrines of the Reformers, and 
ended by adopting them. He exhibited such profound 
scriptural learning that Archbishop Cranmer made him 
his chaplain, and took him to reside with him at Lam- 
beth. The next year the archbishop made hiin Yicar 
of Heme, in Kent, and two years later, he was elected 
Master of his old college of Prembroke Hall at Cam- 
bridge. He at once entered upon the duties of the 
place, and the happiest portion of his life was passed 
here in the society of learned men and in the delightful 
companionship of his books, for he was a genuine 
student as well as a true preacher of the Word. He 
held the position for not quite a year, being appointed, 
in 1540, chaplain to King Henry VIII. On Ash 
Wednesday of that year, he preached before the king, 
in the Chapel Royal, a sermon in which he declared 
himself an uncompromising and open opponent of 
popery and its superstitions. Gardiner protested 
against his sermon in a long letter, but Henry VIII., so 
far from objecting to it, made him Bishop of Rochester. 
Upon the accession of Edward VI., it became necessary 
to make a change in the See of London, which Bonner 
had proved himself unworthy to fill, and Dr. Ridley 
was appointed to the position, and was consecrated 
Bishop of London. 

Bonner had made provision, while Bishop of London, 
for his mother and sister, and when Bishop Ridley 
entered upon the see, he did not disturb them. He 
kept them in comfort at his own expense, and made 



HUGH LATIMER AND NICHOLAS RIDLEY. 609 

them dine every day at his own table. His " mother 
Bonner," as he called her, was always placed at the 
head of the table, beside himself, and he would not 
suffer her seat to be changed, though the highest nobles 
in the land were present. 

The good John Foxe lingers lovingly over the char- 
acter of this good bishop, whom he declares to be " a 
man beautified with such excellent qualities, so ghostly 
inspired, and godly learned, and now written doubtless 
in the book of life, with the blessed saints of the 
Almighty, crowned and throned amongst the glorious 
army of martyrs." 

u For his calling and offices as Bishop of London," 
adds the same writer, " he so diligently occupied him- 
self by preaching and teaching the true and wholesome 
doctrine of Christ, that no good child was more singu- 
larly loved by his dear parents than he by his flock 
and diocese. Every holiday and Sunday he preached 
in some place or other, except he were otherwise 
hindered by weighty affairs and business; to whose 
sermons the people resorted, swarming about him like 
bees, and coveting the sweet flowers and wholesome 
juice of the fruitful doctrine which he did nQt only 
preach, but showed the same by his life as a glittering 
lanthorn to the eyes and senses of the blind, in such 
pure order and chastity of life (declining from evil 
desires and concupiscences) that even his very enemies 
could not reprove him in any one iota thereof. He was 

a man right comely and proportioned in all points, both 
39 



610 



CROSS AND CROWN. 



in complexion and lineaments of the body. He took 
all things in good part, bearing no malice nor rancour 
from his heart, but straightway forgetting all injuries 
or offences done against him. He was very kind and 
natural to his kinsfolk, yet not bearing with them any- 
thing otherwise than right would require, giving them 
always for a general rule, yea, to his own brother and 
sister, that they doing evil should seek or look for 
nothing at his hand, but should be as strangers and 
aliens unto him ; and they to be his brother or sister 
who used honestly a godly trade of life." 

He was a great favorite with King Edward VI., who 
loved nothing better than to hear him and Bishop 
Latimer preach, but at the accession of Queen Mary he 
was seized, having refused to make his escape to a 
foreign country, as his friends had urged him to do, and 
was thrown into the Tower, where he was soon joined 
by Cranmer and Latimer. They were subsequently 
transferred to the Bocardo Prison at Oxford. 

During their imprisonment Latimer and Ridley gave 
themselves to the composition of a series of conferences, 
designed to comfort and strengthen each other, and 
these they reduced to writing, in order that they might 
go out to the Church, and there have a similar effect. 
They are exceedingly beautiful, and full of thought and 
learning, but we cannot quote them here, as they would 
fill a volume. 

At length the bishops were brought to trial, after an 
imprisonment of two years. The court was held in the 



HUGH LATIMER AND NICHOLAS RIDLEY. 611 

Divinity School at Oxford, and consisted of Brookes, 
Bishop of Gloucester, Holyman, Bishop of Bristol, and 
White, Bishop of Lincoln. On the 30th of September, 
1555, Latimer and Ridley were led before this tribunal. 
Ridley was summoned first. The commission of the 
Papal Legate was read, empowering them to try him 
for the opinions he had expressed. He was ordered by 
this document to be degraded from the priesthood, and 
delivered over to the secular arm to be put to death if 
he persisted in his heresies. As he entered the court, 
Ridley uncovered his head, but as he heard the names 
of the Pope and the Legate mentioned, he put his cap 
on again, refusing to acknowledge their authority over 
him. He was ordered to take it off again, and upon his 
refusal to do so, it was removed by a beadle. 

Bishop Ridley was charged with having denied the 
doctrine of Transubstantiation, and the propitiatory 
sacrifice of the Mass, and was urged to recant. The 
opinions held by the bishop concerning the Sacrament 
were peculiar, and were not strictly in accordance with 
those now set forth by the Church of England. It was 
enough for his enemies, however, that they were not 
those of the Church of Rome. " Christ, he said, was 
not the Sacrament, but was really and truly in the 
Sacrament, as the Holy Ghost was with the water at 
baptism, and yet was not the water. The subtlety of 
the position was perplexing, but the knot was cut by 
the crucial question, whether, after the consecration of 
the elements, the substance of bread and wine remained." 



612 CROSS AND CROWN. 

The court gave him until the following morning to de- 
cide upon his answer, but he left no doubt on their minds 
as to what that answer would be. The examining bishops 
told him they were not there to condemn him to die, that 
their province was only to cut off from the Church a 
heretic, and to deliver him over to the temporal judge 
to deal with him as he should think fit. This was a 
weak and cowardly sophism, and had been used so often 
that it had lost its force. Ridley thoroughly understood 
it. He thanked the court " for their gentleness," "being 
the same which Christ had of the high priest ; " " the 
high priest said it was not lawful to put any man to 
death, but committed Christ to Pilate ; neither would 
he suffer him to absolve Christ, though he sought all 
the means therefor that he might." * 

Eidley was now removed, and Bishop Latimer was 
brought before the court. The old man — now fully 
eighty — was clad in an old tattered gown of Bristol 
frieze. He had a hankerchief over his head, with a 
nightcap over it, and over that again, another cap with 
two broad flaps buttoned under the chin. He was girded 
about the waist with a leather belt, from which hung 
his Testament. His large spectacles, without a case, 
were suspended from his neck. " So stood," says Froude, 
" the greatest man perhaps then living in the world, a 
prisoner on his trial, waiting to be condemned to death 
by men professing to be the ministers of God. As it 

* Froude. 



HUGH LATIMER AND NICHOLAS RIDLEY. 613 

was in the days of the prophets, so it was in the Son of 
Man's days ; as it was in the days of the Son of Man, 
so was it in the Reformers' days ; as it was in the days 
of the Reformers, so will it be to the end, so long and 
so far as a class of men are permitted to hold power, 
who call themselves the commissioned and authoritative 
teachers of truth." 

The same charges were brought against Latimer that 
had been urged against Ridley. He met them fairly and 
squarely. When questioned concerning Transubstantia- 
tion, he answered that bread was bread and wine was 
wine. There was a change in the Sacrament, after con- 
secration, it was true, but that change was not in the 
nature of the elements, but in the great dignity imparted 
to them. When the Bishop of Lincoln charged him 
with opposing the Catholic Church, he said : 

" Your lordship doth often repeat the Catholic Church, 
as though I should deny the same. No, my lord, I con- 
fess there is a Catholic Church, to the determination of 
which I will stand, but not the church which you call 
Catholic, which ought rather to be termed diabolic." 

When asked if he believed the Mass to be a propitia- 
tory sacrifice for the quick and the dead, he answered : 

" Christ made one oblation and sacrifice for the sins 
of the whole world, and that a perfect sacrifice ; neither 
needeth there to be, nor can there be, any other propi- 
tiatory sacrifice." 

As had been done with Ridley, the rest of the day 
was given him to reflect upon his answer. On the follow- 



614 CROSS AND CROWN. 

ing morning he and Ridley were brought again before 
the court, sitting this time in St. Mary's Church. They 
were questioned again concerning their belief, and an- 
swered as they had done before. They were then pro- 
nounced heretics, and were sentenced to be degraded 
from all ecclesiastical orders, and to be turned over to 
the civil authorities to be burned. 

They were not put to death for some time, and during 
this interval a Spanish friar, named Soto, who had been 
confessor to Philip of Spain, was sent to convert them 
to Romanism. One of them would not see him, and 
the other proved more than a match for him in argu- 
ment. They were then notified that the 16 th of Oc- 
tober had been fixed upon for their execution. On the 
night of the 15th, Ridley, who had been confined in the 
house of the Mayor of Oxford since his trial, was per- 
mitted to sup with some members of his family. He 
was calm and cheerful, and conversed freely with his 
relatives. Referring to his execution, the next day, he 
spoke of it cheerfully, as his " marriage," and made his 
brother-in-law promise to be present, and to bring his 
wife, Ridley's sister. The brother-in-law offered to sit 
up with him all night, but Ridley told him that there 
was no need of his doing so : " for I intend," he said, 
" God willing, to go to bed, and to sleep as quietly to- 
night as ever I did." The next morning he wrote a 
letter to the queen, stating that, as Bishop of London, 
he had granted renewals of certain leases on which he 
had received fines. Bonner, who had succeeded him in 



HUGH LATIMER AND NICHOLAS RIDLEY. 615 

the See of London, had refused to recognize them, and 
he entreated the queen, for Christ's sake, either to make 
the leases good, or to use some part of his own confis- 
cated property to repay the tenants. 

We have no account of Latimer's last night on earth, 
but we may be very sure that it was spent, as his whole 
life had been, in preparing himself for his entrance into 
the Kingdom of God. 

The spot selected for the execution was on the north 
side of Oxford, outside the town wall, and about mid- 
way between Balliol College and Bocardo Prison, it 
being the design of the priests that Cranmer should be 
able to witness the death of his friends, and thus obtain 
a foretaste of the sufferings in store for himself. The 
City Guard, under Lord Williams, of Thame, were or- 
dered by the queen to appear on the spot under arms 
to prevent any disturbance. 

On the morning of the 16th of October, 1555, the 
martyrs were led to their death. Dr. Ridley was the 
first to appear on the ground. He walked between the 
mayor and one of the aldermen. He was attired with 
scrupulous neatness, in a rich gown of black velvet, 
" such as he was wont to wear, being a bishop," with a 
fur tippet about his neck, and a velvet cap on his head. 
As he passed under the windows of the prison, he looked 
up, hoping to be able to obtain a farewell glance of his 
friend Cranmer, but the archbishop was at that moment 
arguing with Friar Soto, and Ridley did not see him. 
It is said by some writers, however, that Cranmer wit- 



616 CROSS AND CROWN. 

nessed the execution from the roof of the prison. In 
turning around to gaze at the window, Ridley saw his 
old friend Latimer coming behind him, under guard. 
The old man was dressed much as he had been when 
before the court which condemned him, except that 
he wore under his gown a long shirt or shroud. He 
walked with difficulty, but with all the vigor he was 
possessed of. 

" 0, be ye there," exclaimed Ridley, as he saw him. 

" Yea," answered Latimer. " Have after as fast as 
I can follow." 

Ridley hastened to him and embraced him. 

"Be of good heart, brother," he said. "God will 
either assuage the flame, or else he will strengthen us 
to abide it." 

Then they knelt down together, and prayed. When 
they rose to their feet, they remained standing apart 
and conversed in low tones, and their words were not 
overheard. While they were thus engaged the priest 
who had been appointed to preach the sermon at the 
stake, began his discourse, taking for his text, the 
passage of Scripture : " Though I give my body to be 
burned, and have not charity, it profiteth me nothing." 
The martyrs listened calmly to the discourse, which 
lasted about half an hour, and then Ridley asked the 
permission of Lord Williams to answer the preacher. 

One of the priests present said to him : 

" Recant, and you may both speak and live." 

" So long as the breath is in my body," said Ridley, 



HUGH LATIMER AND NICHOLAS RIDLEY. 617 

" I will never deny my Lord Christ and his known 
truth. God's will be done in me." Then turning to 
the multitude, he exclaimed in a loud voice, " I commit 
our cause to Almighty God, who shall indifferently 
judge all." 

" There is nothing hid but it shall be opened," said 
Latimer, and he added that he could answer Smith 
well enough if he were permitted. 

The martyrs were then ordered to prepare for the 
stake, and they obeyed with great meekness. Ridley 
gave his gown and his tippet to his brother-in-law, and 
distributed such articles of dress and other objects as 
he had with him to his friends and to those who were 
present. There was great eagerness on the part of the 
bystanders to obtain some memorial of him. " Some 
plucked the points off his hose," says Foxe, "and 
happy was he who could get the least rag for a re- 
membrance of this good man." 

Latimer had nothing to give away. He quietly 
permitted his keeper to pull off his simple garments, 
"and being stripped to his shroud, he seemed as 
comely a person as one could well see." 

Having stripped himself to his trousers, Bishop Rid- 
ley said to his brother-in-law : 

" It were best for me to go in my trouse still." 

" No," said Latimer, who heard him, " it will put 
you to more pain ; and it will do a poor man good." 

" Be it, in the name of God," said Ridley. Then 
stripping himself to his shirt, he stood and raised his 



Gig CROSS AND CROWN. 

hand to heaven, saying : " Oh heavenly Father, I 
give unto Thee most hearty thanks that Thou hast 
called me to be a professor of Thee, even unto death. 
I beseech Thee, Lord God, have mercy on this realm 
of England, and deliver it from all her enemies." 

The martyrs then went to the stake, and took their 
places on either side of it, while a smith fastened them 
to it with an iron chain. Dr. Eidley's brother, Mr. 
Shipside then brought a bag of gunpowder, and hung 
it about the martyr's neck. Ridley asked what it was, 
and upon being told, said, " I will take it to be sent of 
God, therefore I will receive it. And have you any 
more," he asked, " for my brother ? " meaning Latimer. 

" Yea, sir," said Mr. Shipside. " Then give it to 
him betimes," said Ridley, " lest ye be too late." 

The powder was then placed about Latimer's neck, 
and the executioners brought a torch and fired the pile 
of fagots at Ridley's feet. As he saw the dry wood 
kindling, good Hugh Latimer turned to his companion, 
and cried out to him in that brave, cheerful voice 
which had never uttered a mean or a wicked saying, 
those memorable words which have rung like a watch- 
word through all succeeding times : 

" Be of good comfort, Master Ridley, and play the 
man! We shall this day light such a candle, by 
God's grace, in England, as I trust never shall be 
put OUT." 

"In manus tuas, Domine, commendo spiritum meum," 
cried Ridley. " Domine, recipe spiritum meum." 



HUGH LATIMER AND NICHOLAS RIDLEY 619 

" Father of Heaven," cried Latimer, " receive my 
soul." 

The flames flared up around them. Latimer stood 
bathing his hands in fire and stroking his face. The 
fire reached him first, and in a little while the powder 
exploded and deprived him of consciousness. His 
body fell over into the flames, and was soon consumed. 

Ridley suffered longer and more severely. The fire 
smouldered about his legs, and merely tortured him 
without killing him. In great agony, he cried out, " I 
cannot burn ! Lord have mercy on me ; let the fire 
come to me : I cannot burn." His brother-in-law, 
thinking to help him out of his torment, threw more 
wood on the fire, but this only kept down the flames. 
At last some one took a bill and lifted up the 
fagots, and let in the air. The flames flared up about 
the stake, and by a mighty effort the martyr pushed 
himself into the midst of them. The gunpowder took 
fire instantly, and the good bishop was at peace. A 
moment more, and his body fell over the chain at the 
feet of Latimer. 



THE END 



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